


Irreverence Is My Superpower

by Silent_journey



Series: Avengers and Affliates [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, insecure darcy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3202664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_journey/pseuds/Silent_journey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy Lewis did not have superpowers.  Not unless you counted speed texting, inappropriate commentary, or the ability to find the best iced mocha in town.  Unfortunately none of those did you a lot of good during an alien incursion.</p><p>Now she's in Stark Tower with some of the strongest, bravest, and smartest people on the planet. Alien incursions aren't her biggest worry, but then again she hadn't really been worried about heartbreak either...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

For those who were here the first time around, welcome back. For those who are just tuning in, this story had already been completed. However, I am doing an update/rewrite to this story before following it up with a completed sequel. Chapters should be popping up quite quickly. Hopefully you enjoy!  
  
*****Also, I sadly have no claim on anything Marvel owns including the Avengers.

 

 

 

Since there have been multiple requests to be able to compare the re-write to the original, here is the link for the story on fanfiction.net.

[Irreverence](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11033916/1/Irreverence-Is-My-Superpower)

The chapters posted there are the _original_ originals, so many have mistakes that were corrected during minor edits.

 

 


	2. A Meeting

Darcy Lewis did not have superpowers. Not unless you counted speed texting, inappropriate commentary, or the ability to find the best iced mocha in town. Unfortunately none of those did a lot of good during an alien incursion. Which is why Darcy Lewis had been thrilled to find herself thousands of miles away when New York was attacked. Of course, she'd already been through the whole 'aliens are real! OMFG!' in New Mexico. That had been slightly different considering Thor, her first honest-to-god alien, had been built like...well a god. His friends hadn't been bad either. Especially Sif. (Yeah, she would totally tap that.)

The giant black robot of death hadn't been quite so fun but at least it had been a one-on-one deal (unlike New York where it rained alien menace like confetti). Thankfully Darcy hadn't been the one who had to do the fighting because even with her trusty taser she was woefully underweight for that match. Thor had handled it, and though he hadn't come back right away, Darcy had remained hopeful he would and stuck by Jane while the petite scientist drown her broken heart in astronomy charts. She had followed Jane to England and stayed through another alien incursion. (Didn't aliens have somewhere better to vacation than Earth?) She had even followed Jane back to the currently-under-construction-New-York when Stark Industries had offered the astrophysicist a gig.

Which was how Darcy found herself standing at the main entrance to Stark Tower. She was just standing there, staring at the glass doors and probably making security nervous, but she couldn't make her feet take that next step. This was it. Big leagues. She was going to be surrounded by superheroes, spies, assassins, gods, and aliens. She didn't have a problem with the fact that they were stronger, smarter, faster, deadlier...everything with an -er. No, the problem was that Darcy Lewis, flippant comment master, wasn't actually as flippant as she appeared. (Like those warnings on car mirrors. Totally applied.) She respected, admired, and cared about these people. Even if she hadn't personally met some of them yet. There was a reason she had gone for a political science major after all. She wanted to impact the world, leave it a little better. Her biggest dreams had been about being a motivating force behind whichever Congressman (or woman) would truly change policy. Maybe she would even follow him (her!) to the White House someday. She wasn't planning on sitting in the Oval Office herself. Her mouth was too quick to get her in trouble and her past wasn't the kind that lended itself to candidacy. She had kept her dreams manageable but even her wildest imaginings hadn’t included working for a genius billionaire or with people who were changing the world in real-time.

_ Deep breath, Lewis _ , she advised herself.

As she finally approached the door, it swung open and was held by a man in a cheap suit (the upscale version of a security uniform). "Ms. Lewis," he queried.

"Yep, that's me," she said, producing her patented nothing-troubles-me-grin.

The guard was not immune and smiled back warmly. “Mrs. Potts informed us you were coming. Did you need help finding your way?"

Immediately, Darcy's opinion of the famous Pepper Potts jumped about 10 points. The fierce woman was already pretty high on the Lewis Scale of Awesomeness (trademark pending) but this was above and beyond anything Darcy had anticipated. "What's your name, big guy," she asked, knowing that she had a little extra pep in her step as she followed him into the main lobby.

"Arnold, ma'am," he replied, dipping his head with the introduction.

"Well, Arnold, that would be terrific." She pulled the strap of her messenger bag higher on her shoulder. Everything else she owned had been delivered earlier this morning. 

Arnold gave her another smile and led her toward the security desk where he explained he was going to give her a temporary badge until she was added to the system. Security on the Avengers levels was controlled by biometrics and overseen by Stark’s AI, JARVIS. Pepper had already explained both in the video conference “orientation” she had given Jane and Darcy last week. 

Ten minutes later, Darcy was calling the older man Arnie and telling him to look her up on Facebook so she could send him the links for those bands his kids might be interested in. He assured her that he would as he ushered her into an elevator. 

This particular elevator bank was separate from SI’s corporate ones and the public ones. In fact it was around a corner and out of view of the entrance. The few buttons there were on the inside of the car were unlabeled, but Arnie was kind enough to press the appropriate one for her.

"Good luck," he called as the doors slid closed. Arnie was good people, and Darcy was hoping that meeting him was an omen for how the rest of the day was going to go.

It was a short ride, considering how many floors there were to transverse, but it still gave Darcy too much time to think.  _ Be cool, Lewis. Be cool, _ she cautioned herself as she felt nerves flutter in her stomach.

When elevator doors opened, Darcy was greeted by a stunning view of the city and a vast empty room. A tiny spark of disappointment flickered through her but she squashed it. Superheroes, remember? They were probably off fighting some super-villain and his giant killer gorillas which made it impossible for anyone to be there to greet her. Not that she had been expecting a welcome party exactly. It was just after weeks of anticipation the moment was a bit anticlimactic. 

She stepped out from the elevator and down two small steps into the main area. It was a wide open space with various smaller sitting areas scattered around. The couches and chairs looked inviting, the artwork and decor were tasteful and understated. 

And the view. Seriously. Wow.

Darcy made her way across the room to the wall of windows to get a better look. Closest to the windows was not a sitting area, but instead a large dining room table. It could probably hold a dozen people easily. A vision of a dozen brightly colored comic-book superheroes complete with capes gathered around in a classic Norman Rockwell moment flashed through her mind, making her snort in amusement.

A voice called out from vaguely to her right.

There was a largish doorway in that direction, and though she couldn't hear what was said, the tone spoke of frustration and the voice was definitely male. Following the sound, Darcy found herself in a fully outfitted kitchen that gleamed with stainless steel and acres of marble counter space including a long bar along the closest wall. Darcy could already imagine the impressive spread which the counter was obviously designed to hold. Before her mind could wander too far, her eyes were drawn to the room's only occupant. (A spectacular occupant if the view of his tight ass encased in jeans was any indication.) She opened her mouth intending to call out a greeting but snapped it shut when she heard him speak.

"I am going to hurl you off the roof if you do not cooperate." It was said with such frustration and malice that Darcy almost took a step back. Jesus, this guy was not kidding around. She was trying to think how many steps it would take for her to be back on the elevator when she realized that all the mystery man's venom was directed at the microwave. Her eyebrows rose in fascination and amusement. Again she opened her mouth to quip but an oh-so-proper-and-put-upon British accented voice rang out from above interrupting her.

"May I suggest allowing me to operate the microwave for you?"

"No," the blonde pronounced, straightening his shoulder to military precision as if he was preparing to charge into battle. And god what a beautiful view that made. Forget the city skyline. She could totally spend the next hour appreciating this fine example of the male form. "I know how these things work. The one at my apartment has less buttons but I'll be damned if I let Stark's excessive appliances get the best of me."

He sounded so adorably frustrated that she felt an 'aww' rising in her throat.

"Very well, Captain Rogers," the disembodied butler sighed with resignation.

That was when Darcy's mind finally clicked the puzzle pieces together. Oh.my.god. It's Captain America! She had been staring at Captain America's fine ass while he contemplated murdering the microwave (microcide??). Not that she really felt all that guilty about staring at his ass. Those buns were definitely worth the price of admission. And even if he couldn't get his food heated, she felt like something was cooking in the kitchen with how warm her cheeks (and other parts) felt.

She must have made some sort of sound, because the star-spangled beefcake tensed and turned in her direction. "Hello," Darcy offered lamely with a little half wave and a sheepish smile.

He said nothing in return. His stare said enough. Arms folded across his chest, he screamed suspicion and Darcy supposed he had a right to be. He was a soldier and used to dealing with spies and assassins, and she was an unknown element.

Darcy however was not one to be cowed even by that intimidating face. She mentally took a breath then jumped in. "Having a bit of a problem?" She didn't give him a chance to answer as she pulled her bag off her shoulder and deposited it on the counter. "Well no worries. I am an expert with unruly microwaves." Pushing up her sleeves and adjusting her glasses, she sidled around the glowering defender of earth. "Even had to hog-tie one once, but it came to heel eventually." She swore there was a spark of amusement in his eyes at that but it may have only been her imagination.

Making a big show of lining up directly in front of the wayward appliance, she studied the many settings and buttons. The light inside was on, highlighting a bag of popcorn. "Aha, no wonder you're having trouble. Popcorn is the hardest thing to get them to take on the first go. Always better to start with something easy like a hot pocket. All the best wranglers will tell you that."

She couldn't see him from her current position, but she thought she heard a soft chuckle.

Moving slowly, as if not to startle the unresponsive machine, she gently pressed the appropriate buttons. When the low sound of the motor started and the bag inside began to rotate, she slowly took a step back still playing out her schtick.

She hadn't anticipated how close her audience had been standing, as she ran right up against him. For a split second she froze. He was a solid wall of muscle and wouldn't it be so much fun to see if every appendage was as solid as his chest.

She jumped forward and spun to face him, trying to keep the blush from her cheeks.  _ Bad Darcy _ , she told herself.  _ Bad bad Darcy _ ... _ but god he feels good _ .

"Sorry about that," she said, throwing up her hands and trying not to look him in the face. Was it even possible for her to have made a worse first impression?

Now he laughed. It wasn't malicious. It was gentle and warm and genuine. Looking up at his face she saw honest amusement there. "Not a problem," he said dropping his arms to his sides. "I should thank you for helping me. I've never seen a..." The pause was significant enough that Darcy had a second of panic. "...wrangler with your style before."

It was her turn to give him a genuine smile.

"Steve Rogers," he said extending a hand. She grabbed it without hesitation.

"Darcy Lewis," she offered, trying her best not to let her hand linger against his too long. As soon as he made a miniscule movement to pull back she mirrored the motion. Unobtrusively she pressed her tingling palm against her thigh. 

"Well Ms. Lewis what brings you to Stark's ostentatious abode? Besides being the resident wrangler." 

She laughed. "Not gonna let that one go are ya, Rogers," she queried.

"No, ma'am." And he smirked. Smirked! She made Captain America smirk. Damn non-disclosure agreements. That smirk would have been hitting her feeds in ten seconds flat if Ms. Potts hadn't forced those forms on her. The smile on her face was probably dopey but she didn't even care. She was in Tony Stark's kitchen joking around with Captain America. Dopey smiles were totally acceptable in response to the current situation.

"Captain Rogers, your popcorn appears to be ready." The voice startled her a bit, but it only made Rogers' smirk grow.

"Thank you, JARVIS."

Darcy may have been imagining things. Maybe. But she would swear on her sacred iPod that Steve Rogers purposely invaded her space as he went to retrieve his popcorn. She moved back to give him more room as he poured the snack into a big bowl. She was fascinated as she watched him lift a few kernels to his mouth. Jesus fucking Christ, those lips looked like a way better snack than the popcorn. She swallowed trying to wet her suddenly dry throat.

She only about ten minutes in and she was already salivating over one of the Tower’s residents. Probably not a great way to start. She was going to have to find a way to shake off her fascination with him if she didn’t want to be getting a restraining order her first week. That was a week three goal at minimum.

Casting around for some topic of conversation that would get her mind away from the fantasies about what she could do with those lips, she remembered his question. "I'm Dr. Jane Foster's assistant. Your basic lab monkey. Nothing special, but because Jane is staying here in the tower as part of the package Tony offered her, I got attached to the deal too. Just think of me as the appendix of the science department." She had meant it jokingly. But the frown that Rogers was sporting told her she may have missed her mark. Or maybe he could read her better than she counted on.

Either way she was saved from whatever he was gearing up to say, by the unseen Jarvis. "Ms. Lewis, Sir left instructions for you to be informed when Dr. Foster arrived. She is currently on her way to the lab."

"Um, thanks Jarvis," she said. "Can you tell me how to get to the lab from here please?"

"It would be my pleasure, Ms. Lewis. If you would please follow the blue lights." Darcy looked down to see a track of blue lights leading back toward the way she came. “Handy.” Gathering up her bag, she threw the still munching super soldier a smile over her shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Rogers."

His smile was slow but still warm. "Nice to meet you too, Ms. Lewis."

As she made her way back to the elevator, she couldn't help grinning. Life in the Tower was definitely going to be an adventure. If nothing else the eye-candy was totally worth it. So long as she could remember that eye-candy was not for tasting...or licking...or biting....

_ Bad Darcy _ , she reprimanded herself again.  _ Bad, bad Darcy _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make my little black heart flutter :)
> 
> Some takeaways from this chapter:  
> 1\. Darcy isn't strictly "straight".  
> 2\. She definitely talks to herself.  
> 3\. "Tasteful and understated" decor is definitely Pepper's doing.  
> 4\. I think Darcy's assessment of him as eye-candy is incorrect. Eye-candy is only meant to be enjoyed with the eyes technically, and Steve Rogers should be enjoyed in many more dimensions than that... :P


	3. The Grand Tour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting a timeline shortly here, but for now please keep in mind that I am not following the original order of the movie releases or their time frame. I will get into more details soon, but if something doesn't seem to make sense that is probably why. :)

Darcy was fairly certain that Stark's ten floors of R&D were what Jane's wet dreams looked like. Well maybe not _all_ her wet dreams. The astrophysicist did have Thor to keep her warm at night, after all. So probably 80/20. Actually, Darcy had gotten a good look at his abs back in the desert. It was totally 60/40.

Following the trail of blue light that Jarvis laid out for her had gotten Darcy to what was going to be Jane’s new lab. The journey had consisted of a short elevator ride (only 5 or 6 floors this time) and an even short walk down a couple corridors. The walls for the whole floor were half made of glass, letting natural light in and letting the working scientists be seen. Not that Darcy saw any other scientists. There were several individual lab spaces but no evidence of any other workers. She wasn’t sure why that would be, but before she could decide if that was an appropriate question to ask Jarvis or not, her journey came to an end.

The little blue lights ended at a set of double doors made of glass. 

“Please press your palm to the panel on the left, Ms. Lewis,” Jarvis instructed from on high.

Complying, Darcy thought of several scenarios where having to stop for a palm scan was going to be seriously inconvenient. “Umm, Jarvis?”

“Yes, Ms. Lewis.”

“Is this gonna be a thing I have to do every time? Cause I’m picturing a lot of lost cups of coffee or spilled paperwork. I, for one, am not talented in juggling.”

There was a slight pause, one in which Darcy was certain that Jarvis was judging her. When he spoke again it was with the slightest hint of amusement. “That is a skill that few in the building have, I assure you.” His tone went bland again. “However, due to security protocols, I am unable to allow you to simply walk through the door. Sir chooses to use a biometric scan for his entrances. I can institute the same practice for yourself, though I have been informed that most find it to be invasive to their right to privacy.”

Darcy waved off the disclaimer. She was a child of the internet age. What was privacy really? Once you had a Facebook page and a Google account everything was searchable. 

“Yeah. Let’s do that Jarvis. So long as you’re not going to post my measurements on Twitter I think I can deal.” 

Once more the electronic entity sounded as if he was entertained. “I can assure you, Ms. Lewis, that unlike my creator I have always behaved with the utmost propriety.”

Darcy was still chuckling about the little dig at Stark as the doors to the lab opened and she stepped through.

Inside (besides a small huddle of people) was a veritable wonderland of highly polished chrome, star charts, giant projector screens, desks with sufficient elbow room for Thor, thickly padded high-backed office chairs, chalkboard, whiteboards, sleek computers, and…

A choir of angels sang hallelujah in Darcy’s headed as she cast her eyes over the luxurious coffee bar. It was fit for the gods. She could almost taste the sweet ambrosia that the equipment would be capable of producing. Even if Stark was only going to give them duct tape and rubber bands for the rest of the equipment Darcy was satisfied. The sweet black gold would sustain her through any trials or tribulations.

In front of the coffee bar was a small lounge area with couches, side tables, and chairs. The couches had fluffy blankets folded over the backs and plump pillows that Darcy was sure were more than decorative. She had no doubt that the whole area was done in such a way as to cater to exhausted geniuses who didn’t know when to stop.

It was everything an intergalactic researcher (and her coffee addicted assistant) needed to break the constraints of currently accepted theory.

Tearing her eyes away from what would be forever dubbed the “Palace of Percolation", Darcy tried to tune in to what the other occupants of the space were discussing. Jane seemed to be listening raptly to a man who had his back to Darcy. On closer inspection, she recognized him as none other than Tony Stark, her new landlord and boss. 

Darcy had met Stark once before during her one face-to-face meeting with Ms. Potts. (Who had totally told Darcy to call her Pepper. Squee!) He had swaggered in, while Pepper tried to conduct the interview, complaining about the speed of construction on the Tower. At the time, Stark had ignored her, though he had flipped through her file when Pepper placed it in his hands. Instead of commenting on its contents he had been picking at Pepper about someone he called Rhodey. At one point he had legitimately asked if the aforementioned Rhodey could sleep over. Though Darcy still wasn't sure if he had been serious or not, she had taken her que to ignore the genius from Pepper and been able to carry on with the meeting until Stark had gotten bored with the non-reaction and left.

"The whole thing links into the telescope on the roof and the facility upstate," he was saying now. "JARVIS can control both for you or you can handle them manually. Whatever gets your rocks off." His tone was proud with a coating of sarcastic. A combination that Darcy recognized well.

While Tony continued to expound on the many benefits of the lab he had designed, (“holographic blah blah and science word in correlation with NASA…”) Darcy took a second to try to place the third member of this brilliant minded huddle. He was a decent looking man. Cute, in a rumpled professor kind of way. And Darcy definitely had a soft spot for rumpled professor. It was one of things that had gotten Jane under her skin and into her rather small circle of friends. 

The stranger looked familiar but Darcy couldn't place him. After a moment, he looked up as if he had felt her stare. As he studied her over the top of his glasses, Darcy couldn't help but smile kindly. The smile only confused him. He threw off this uncertain aura that made her want to hug him, or make him hot chocolate. 

He didn't seem as interested in listening to Stark as Jane did. When he rolled his eyes at Stark’s "of course, because I'm a genius" response to one of Jane's questions, Darcy figured he must have heard this same spiel before. He skirted around the billionaire’s wild gesturing and approached with a shuffling step. When he was closer, he gave her a nod and a bashful smile in greeting. It made her wondered if he was shy or if he had a thing about touching other people or something. Either way Darcy Lewis, wrangler extraordinaire, wasn't going to be satisfied with only a nod. 

Sticking out hand, she took a step toward him. "Hello there. I'm Darcy Lewis. I'll be the one bringing you coffee, heating your pop-tarts, and enforcing bedtimes. Do not expect me to understand more than one in ten words when you start talking shop though."

The man took her hand but it seemed more out of habit and social politeness than a real desire to. At least at first. The more words that poured out of her unstoppable mouth, the firmer his grip became and the wider his smile. "Ah, Ms. Lewis. Dr. Foster has mentioned you. I'm Dr. Banner, but please call me Bruce. It's very nice to finally meet you."

Now she recognized him! Christ-on-a-cracker! Of course, this was _ that  _ Bruce. The one with the giant green alter-ego. Excitement brightened her smile but she didn’t let any other signs of her thoughts show on her face. She had a feeling he would not take her general enthusiasm for meeting him in the right way. Ever meticulous, Pepper had mentioned Dr. Banner would prefer not to discuss aspects of the Hulk in her orientation since the man would be living in close proximity.

She would agree with Pepper’s assessment of the situation. Only five minutes in her presence and Bruce was already looking like he wanted to be ducking his head and backing away. It wasn’t bashfulness. It was uncertainty. It was an ingrained response to deflect and draw less attention. Darcy could only imagine what his life had been like in the years since Hulk had appeared.

Her heart made a squish noise as it opened a little pocket to put him in. She had similar pockets for Jane, the baby bunny she had rescued from a terrible fate under a lawnmower, and her adoptive father.

Not that she was going to let him know of course. She was going to have to tread carefully with this one. He wasn’t like Jane to be manipulated into doing what she wanted with feigned ignorance, unsubtle obnoxious meddling, and liberal application of sarcasm.

"Well, Bruce," she said quickly to prevent any uncomfortable pauses. "Is Stark planning on talking about his genius all day or is there anything else on the agenda?"

"I heard that, Lewis," a snarky voice called from over Bruce's shoulder. Stark swaggered over, trying for a stern look that Darcy didn't believe for a second considering his eyes dipped down to her chest more than once. "You know it's not good talk about your boss behind his back. Could get you in all sorts of trouble." His eyebrows did a wiggle that Darcy was sure he thought was provocative.

Since the age of fourteen when her boobs had swelled practically overnight, Darcy had gotten used to men looking at her boobs. She had learned early on that the best defense was a good offense. If Stark wanted to play this game, she was ready. "Well it's a good thing you're not my boss then."

Stark seemed surprised, like he hadn't expected the puppy he was poking to bite him. "How's that now?"

Holding back laughter at his outright confusion, Darcy continued. "I'd heard a lot about you, Mr. Stark. And after expressing my concern, Pepper assured me that I report to her." Tony Stark was one of those people that always thought he had the upper hand. To be able to throw a wrench in his cogs tickled her pink.

Stark's lips pressed together and his brow crinkled while he let that circle through the machinery in his brain.

He didn’t need to know that Pepper had also listed him as one of her bosses, but that it would take Pepper's approval to have her fired. Nor that Pepper had hired her on with the secondary objective of watching over Stark when he got into his manic inventing moods.

Beside him, Bruce had one arm crossed over his chest supporting the hand that was cover his mouth and the laughter that was threatening to spill out.

"I like you Lewis," he finally declared with a nod. "And since I'm not your boss I'll be having none of this Mr. Stark business." He waved vaguely as if to brush the title away. "Call me Tony."

Offering her hand in truce, she nodded in agreement. "Tony." She had feeling they were going to get along fine. There would definitely be a few bumps when she introduced her rules for the lab, but that was for another day. Besides, she was going to have to re-evaluate her rules since this new environment was likely to have all sorts of new things that Jane would try to use as excuses to stay at work for days on end.

On the bright side, a certain god of thunder with luscious flowing locks was in the building. With him around, Jane would be less likely to bunk down on one of the couches. At least if he was planning on sticking around. He had been a little vague on that point up to now.

The rest of the day seemed to fly by in a blink.

Tony did indeed have more things on the agenda than just praising his own genius. Though he’d been sure to squeeze some of that in as well. 

Their little group had toured all ten floors of R&D. Most of the other floors had contained actual SI personnel, all of whom had scattered out of the way of the whirlwind that was Tony Stark.

Next had been a trip to the rooftop to inspect the telescope that sat where Loki's portal making machine had once resided. On the other half of the roof was a small garden, complete with a wooden gazebo and several benches.

After that came what Tony called the "unwashed masses" levels, which somehow encompassed restaurants, shops, and offices. Then it was back up the elevator to the "Avenger levels". Some of these were still under construction but she could see the potential. When everything was finished it was going to be a pretty sweet setup.

The very last stop on Tony's tour was the floor which would become her home for the foreseeable future. As they stepped off the elevator, Darcy took in the spacious entryway and two halls. Tony pointed to the one on the right and informed them that Jane and Thor had a four bedroom suite and he'd even included a "romper room" for Thor. Of course when he said romper room he did it was suggestive eyebrow wiggle and smirk.

Darcy rolled her eyes and surprisingly Tony relented. "I have no idea what thunder gods do for fun besides as Steve put it 'calling the lightning' so once Muscles is finished with SHIELD stuff and moves in for real he can decide what to do with it." There was no snappy come back from the ever-flippant Darcy Lewis. Maybe the Tin Man had a heart after all.

"Lab monkeys are on the left," he said, throwing a thumb in the general direction of the other hall as he turned and headed back to the elevator.

Or maybe his heart had rusted over.

Bruce bowed out with Tony, and though he did so silently he threw her a smile that assured Darcy she was definitely going to have a friend in him. She was just going to have to convince him of it first.

Jane and Darcy stood still until the elevator doors were securely shut and the car had risen. Then Darcy released the reins on her inner fan-girl that she had been holding in all day. "Oh. My. God." She turned to her friend and mentor as she said it, conveying the emotions lacking in her voice with her face instead. Jane nodded, that same gazed look of the overwhelmed in her eyes. "Oh my god! Oh my god, Jane," she said, each syllable climbing in pitch and volume.

"I know," Dr. Foster finally offered. "I know!"

"ohmygodohmygodohmygod!" They grabbed hands and jumped up and down like children on their way to Disney. "iknowiknowiknowiknow!"

Only lack of oxygen made Darcy throttle down. "We spent the day with Tony Stark! I met Bruce Banner! And I got literal 'full contact' with Captain America."

"I know - wait, what?" Jane looked at her with concern. "What do you mean full contact?"

Darcy straightened herself up and gave Jane a haughty look over her glasses. "Details are only for those who help unpack boxes, Dr. Foster." Jane laughed but she dutifully followed Darcy down the hall.

An hour later, the basics were unpacked. Basics being Darcy’s music collection, her stereo, the wine glasses, nail polish, and her laptop. A girl couldn't live without the basics. While the wine (a gift left on the counter of her kitchenette courtesy the extremely fabulous Pepper Potts) slowly disappeared, Darcy pumped Jane for info on their new housemates (tower-mates??). The astrophysicist had been here for a few days though she had not had access to the lab until this afternoon.

It turned out that Steve was only visiting, and would be leaving in a few days. (Darcy tried not to feel disappointed, but who was she kidding. She had totally been hoping to get to know the man behind the shield a little better.) Bruce, on the other hand, was planning on staying. Tony had built the scientist his own customized Hulk-sized lab with a panic room in back to contain any “green-tinted temper tantrums” (Tony’s words). Apparently it was enough to tempt the fluffy haired man into staying.

Tony was planning on splitting his time between the Tower and his Malibu estate where Pepper was normally based. Though she had enjoyed bantering with Tony, she was a little relieved to know that she wasn’t going to have him on her plate full time.

The pair of assassins, that neither of them had met, were unaccounted for at present. Tony was sure that they would be turning up. Whether that was wishful thinking on his part, or if he was tracking their whereabouts, Darcy didn’t know.

"What about Thor," Darcy inquired as she concentrated on getting the perfect amount of polish on her pinkie toe. There was a longer pause then she was expecting and when she lifted her head there was the unflappable Dr. Foster with a blush crawling across her cheeks. "Jane!"

The older woman turned her head away embarrassed. "He's going to stay." Her voice was soft and filled with more emotion than she probably intended. Darcy could only smile as she turned back to her task. She wouldn't push it right now. The thing between Thor and Jane was still too new, too fragile. And as much as Darcy didn't believe in love for herself she knew under that big brain Jane was definitely built for the kind of old-fashioned love Thor was likely to offer her.

Leaning back on the ratty couch she refused to upgrade, she inspected her work. Not bad. In fact the same could be said of the whole day. Not bad indeed.

 

###

 

The cold was receding as he woke. It burned and stung as his muscles thawed, as the blood began to pound through veins that had been iced shut. He knew better than to call out. They told him weakness like that was unnecessary. Anything unnecessary had been purged long ago.

He didn't bother to open his eyes or to speak. He could tell exactly how many people were in the room and where they were by sound alone. 

The door open and he felt the way everyone came to attention. This new presence was important. A leader. One of his owners. One who held his leash.

"Hail Hydra."


	4. The Man Out of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehe.... Look at me go. 5000 words! What?!!! That's more than double what this chapter used to be.
> 
> Anyway... Hope you all enjoy!

Captain America. The soldier. A man out of time.

Ironic that Loki had been the one to summarize his current life so succinctly. The description stood though. There wasn’t a person alive who remembered him as Steve Rogers. 

He was surrounded by people who had grown up with his image. On lunch boxes, in comic books, on Saturday morning cartoons. There were documentaries and “tell-all” books from people who had only floated on the outskirts of this life. Captain America had become a symbol, an icon. No man could live up to that ideal, but Steve was determined to try.

None of the Howlies had spoken about him, choosing instead to respect his want for privacy. He appreciated that. He even appreciated that Howard had kept searching for him, long after the rest of the world had given up.

Yet here he was. Alone. A soldier without his team. A faceless man beneath his cowl.

He couldn’t escape the reality of it, and he hadn’t even tried really. After Bucky had fallen, he had done his damnedest to drink himself to oblivion. The one time in his life he had reached for a crutch and it hadn’t even been able to hold him.

He may not have been completely caught up on the current century but he knew there were other ways of getting out of your head now. More chemical compounds to bring joy for a short time. It wasn’t his way. Tempted though he was to give in.

He refused to be that weak. He refused to ask for help. He could handle this. 

He could handle the way people hardly looked up from their phones. He could handle the faster pace. He could handle the silence.

Steve knew silence wasn’t the way most people would describe the bold 21st century. But silence was all he heard.

There was silence where there used to be the hum of little details. Things a man wouldn't even notice until they were gone leaving only the silence of his memories. Hats on heads, gloves on hands, static on the radio, lines on a lady’s stockings, laundry on the line. The man at the newspaper stand calling good morning and greeting you by name. Children sitting on the front steps, taking a break in between their play.

Everything was slimmed down, cut back. Less but more. Efficiency they called it.

Steve wasn’t so sure.

He kept most of his thoughts to himself. Gave only the surface answers when SHIELD’s doctors tried to engage him.  _ The advancements are astounding. It took long enough for desegregation. Fine. _

The latter was his favorite word to give them. “How are you feeling?”  _ Fine. _ “How do you feel that you’re integrating to the time period?”  _ Fine.  _ “How was your workout?”  _ Fine.  _ “Are your quarters comfortable?”  _ Fine. _

If he kept it up they were going to start marking down that his vocabulary was limited and maybe someone would be double checking for brain damage from his years in the ice.

After shawarma, after watching Loki be shackled, Steve had seen an opportunity to escape. To just disappear for a while. 

He had packed a bag, loaded in onto the back of his bike, and gone to meet the others to see off Thor. Once the Asgardians were gone, Steve had shaken hands with Stark and Banner, had given a salute to Barton, and was going to simply drive away. It was Natasha who stopped him. She had stepped in front of his bike after he’d seated himself, her face unreadable.

“Where are you headed?”

He’d met her stare for stare, not giving an inch. “Just taking a drive.”

That had made the redhead smirk. In that single expression, Steve could see that she knew his plans. She knew. He wondered how much of his situation she could sympathize with. He had read her file, what little hadn’t been redacted. He also knew that she had been assigned to the team not only for her fighting skills. She had been meant as his minder. A whistle blower if he went off the rails.

The moment dragged out. He refused to give in. If she called Fury, Steve wasn’t sure what he would do. He wouldn’t hurt anyone, but he wouldn’t be stuffed back into the box SHIELD wanted to keep him in. 

Natasha reached for something in her back pocket. Steve felt the grips of the handlebars give under his hands until he forcibly relaxed them.

Then something was hovering in front of his face. It was a paper map. A colorful accordion folded thing full of possibilities. He took it on instinct, not really registering the writing on the front.

“Don’t get lost, Rogers,” Natasha advised before stepping away.

She slid into the car that Barton already occupied. Neither of them looking back as they drove out of sight. Their way of giving him a blessing on his trip. They couldn’t tell SHIELD where he’d gone if they didn’t know.

Steve wasn’t naive enough to think he would really be “lost” for long. Yet this gave Fury the chance for plausible deniability. At least for a little while.

He followed the road out of New York. Out of the city and then the state. He didn’t make a plan, didn’t have a destination. He just drove. Stopping only to fill the gas tank or grab a bite to eat.

Steve wasn’t sure what he was looking for. The only thing he knew was that he wanted to fill the silence. The old music haunted his dreams and when he woke its absence was harsh. It made his soul ache.

Weeks turned to months. Natasha’s map became riddled with marks. Places he had been, roads he had ridden.

Blazing down highways or back roads at speeds that might have killed him if he made a miscalculation, Steve could only feel the adrenaline and the wind. It was the one time Steve actually felt the age he looked in the mirror. The shadows couldn’t keep up with him. He never crashed the machine, but even if he did, the indomitable Captain America would probably survive.

Steve didn't like to think about that.

Four and a half months later, he felt himself being drawn back to New York. The city had always called him. It was his home as much as any place would ever be.

No one from SHIELD had tried to contact him in all the time that he had been gone, which only favored his theory that they were watching him discreetly. But since they were still willing to play the game he continued as well. He rented a cramped hotel room in a seedy neighborhood. The price was cheap and the bed was hard. He opened the window at night to listen to the sounds of the city. The car alarms, the traffic, the drunken arguments. It felt right.

Everyday he wandered down to one of the volunteer stations and signed in to help with the clean up. No one looked to close at his face. Or if they did they never said a word. New Yorkers at their finest.

Ten days in and he had settled into a routine. He’d been assigned as part of a specific work crew. They called him JB and razzed him good heartedly as they did everyone. He was used to them moving around him, which was why it took a few minutes to recognize that the figure on his right was out of place.

Stark.

He had materialized out of nowhere, which meant he probably had worn the suit. Anyone arriving in one of Stark’s ostentatious cars would have drawn at a mummer of attention. He was wearing a bad t-shirt and black jeans. Sneakers on his feet. So at least he was dressed for the area.

"What's up, Cap," he queried in greeting.

"Stark."

"Awww. We back to that again." His tone was part whining child and part disappointed. It made Steve realize his own tone may have been a bit terse. 

It wasn’t Tony’s fault really. Steve simply wasn’t ready to give up his anonymity yet. Steeling himself, Steve set down the shovel he was using to gather debris. Facing Tony he tried again. "Hello, Tony. What brings you down from the tower?"

Tony gave a delighted smile. "You make me sound like a princess, Cap. You trying to hint that you think I'm royalty? Cause I wouldn't mind it. But I've already had JARVIS run the genealogy and the closest my roots get to the aristocracy is a third or fourth cousin who works in Buckingham."

Shaking his head, Steve smiled faintly. "No. I wouldn't think to give you any more delusions of grandeur. I figured you had enough on your hands rebuilding your own place, is all I meant."

Even before the serum, Steve had been a tactician. The serum had only enhanced it. Which was why he knew Tony had something sneaky up his sleeve when the genius lit up at the bare mention of rebuilding.

"Well actually Cap, that's sorta what I'm here about. Fancy coming to take a look at my tower." Somehow Stark made even that sentence seem lewd with double entendre, but Steve ignored the eyebrow wiggle.

"I'm not finished for the day..." Tony's face fell. "But I'll stop by when I wrap up." The concession made Tony smile brightly and for a brief second Steve could see Howard in his face. Another dusting of salt in his wounds. Then it was gone and there was only Tony.

The billionaire had swaggered off, and Steve had gone back to work.

He debated going over the next few hours. In reality, he could have called it quits anytime, but he didn’t feel up to dealing with Tony right away. Stark was so much like his father, and so very different at the same time. Both were tiring.

When the whistle blew, Steve returned his shovel and wheelbarrow to the foreman. He had a brief thought of going back to his hotel room. It would be quiet and he wouldn’t have to deal with Tony’s constant stream of conversation, but… That wasn’t fair. He had told Tony he was coming. He wouldn’t leave the man waiting.

Foregoing the helmet tied on the back (as always), he got on his bike and headed toward Stark Tower.

He had seen the Tower since his return to New York. It was hard to miss. The fallen letters had never been replaced. Instead the “A” had been reworked and was the only identifier. That single letter was a beacon. At night, when the whole city was bright enough to hide the stars, it still shone brighter.

The Tower was a monument to Tony's genius. Also a stroke to his ego. Neither of those facts surprised Steve. What did surprise him was security informing him that he had already been entered into the system and that there was garage access on the other side of the building where he could drive his bike right in.

Parking his bike, Steve couldn’t help but look around. The cars were mostly flashy, but there were a few things tucked in a row that were more his speed. The outline of a bike under a white sheet made him curious, but he didn’t give into the desire to lift the edge. 

“Captain Rogers, Sir has requested that you join him and Dr. Banner in the lounge area. Shall I direct you?” 

Relaxing muscles that had tensed automatically at the voice, Steve nodded. He had been briefly introduced to JARVIS, but hadn’t interacted with the program much. “Yes, please.” He looked to the ceiling where he thought the voice had come from. “If you don’t mind.”

“It would be my pleasure, Captain. If you could follow the lights to the elevator.”

When the doors to the elevator closed, Steve almost startled again. A panel, above the array of unmarked buttons, slid back to reveal a second set of controls. “Uh, JARVIS?”

“I apologize, Captain. Your security clearance dictates that you have access to these areas whenever you are in the elevator by yourself or with others who have similar clearance. I can also direct the elevator to whatever floor you desire, but this would allow you manual control as well in the event that I am unable to assist.”

“Right.” Steve wasn’t actually sure what all that meant.

The elevator gave a muted ding as it arrived on the proper floor. Setting aside his questions, Steve exited. The room he found himself in was lavish. He had been in this century long enough to recognize expensive items. Everything here from the carpet to the artwork screamed wealth. He had expected nothing less. What surprised him was how even the architecture of the building was different than his last visit. He had been here before, after the battle of New York, when they had come to collect Loki.

At the time, they hadn’t been able to take the leisurely tour that Stark had wanted to give them. However, with his eidetic memory, Steve could still recall every detail he had seen. He wasn’t sure what the pricetag would be for a remodel on this scale, and he wasn’t certain that he wanted to know.

“Welcome to Avengers Tower,” Tony announced, stepping out from a doorway to the left. A glass full of amber liquid swayed unsteadily in his hand.

“Is that really what we’re calling it now,” Banner questioned as he followed Tony in.

“Of course, Brucie. What did you think the giant A on the building stood for?”

While they had been chasing down the Tesseract, Steve hadn't really gotten a chance to talk to Dr. Banner. The older man seemed like a good enough person. Steve even appreciated the fact that he could put up with Tony’s snark without losing control… or at least socking the effusive man in the jaw. However, Steve didn’t know Banner well enough to crack the joke he was entertaining in his mind.

Turned out he needn't have worried, as Banner did it for him. “I thought it stood for Asshole.”

Tony paused in the act of lifting his glass to his lips. “That’s a bit rude.”

Banner simply met Steve’s gaze, the twinkle of amusement in his eye. Steve returned the look with a smirk, understanding passing between them. 

Perhaps they would get along better than Steve expected.

“Ignoring the terribly ungrateful Bruce, welcome to Avengers Tower. Feel free to kick up your feet. Grab a drink. JARVIS can get you any game you want to watch. Or if you want we can hire a little in house entertainment.” 

Again with the innuendo. At least now Steve wasn’t the only one rolling his eyes.

JARVIS was good enough to chime in at that moment and remind Tony that Pepper had restricted such activities. Banner was able to steer the conversation in another direction thankfully. They made themselves comfortable on the various couches and JARVIS did indeed put on a game. None of them paid it much attention, but the background noise was appreciated.

Eventually, Tony got around to his endgame. "I want to make this a base for us. The Avengers. We all know SHIELD can't be trusted." He paused at that, all three of them thinking of the events that had taken place on the Helicarrier. The weapons that had been created. The missle that had nearly taken out New York. "So we should have our own little hideaway. A man cave. Well except for Natasha. Nah, I take that back. Definitely a man cave. Natasha counts as a spy, not a girl, so man cave," he pronounced it like he was naming his first child. Bruce rolled his eyes but didn't bother to dispute Tony's claim.

It was a sound idea, but Steve was still wary. As Tony tried to use his expansive vocabulary and questionable charm to persuade him, Steve silently observed. 

The whole time they had been talking Tony had kept his back to the windows while slowly draining his glass. Though Steve didn’t have much of a baseline to compare his behavior to, the older man seemed manic. If he was this wired while inebriated, Steve wondered how he was spending his days. There were dark circles under his eyes, a faint tremor in his hands. Signs of exhaustion were written all over if one looked hard enough.

“Okay, Tony,” Steve interrupted when Tony paused to draw breath.

Tony froze briefly. He seemed confused by the easy acceptance. Then he was setting aside his glass and clapping his hands together. “Right! Great! I’ve got some plans -”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Tomorrow,” Steve repeated firmly. “You can show me whatever you want.” Grabbing the jacket he had discarded earlier, Steve stood.. “I’m going to pick up my things and check out of the hotel. I’m sure JARVIS can direct me to my room when I get back.”

“I would be happy to assist, Captain.”

With a sharp nod, he turned to the elevator, then paused at the doors. “Get some sleep, Tony.” It sounded like an order in the air.

He didn’t stick around to see what affect his words had.

Back on his bike, Steve weaved through traffic. It was dark now. The sun was setting earlier and earlier as autumn marched in. He tried not to analyze why he had agreed so readily. He could claim that it was only due to sound strategy. The truth was less concrete. For a moment, Steve had seen Bucky. Trembling and exhausted, shadows of the trauma he had suffered in his eyes, but still giving a smile at Dum Dum’s antics. The barest hint of hysteria in the edge of his laugh.

Steve knew it wasn’t the same. Tony wasn’t trudging through the European theatre in the middle of war after being experimented on. Yet… There was a correlation that Steve couldn’t deny.

Besides, it wasn’t as if there was anything pressing in his future. He could stay a while, perhaps get to know Bruce and Tony better.

Later, when he lay on an unfamiliar bed in a room that was to be his, he let his shadows catch him. He let the darkness consume him. In this moment, he would be Steve again. Sickly skinny kid from Brooklyn, more burden than anything. There was no shield here. No Captain America. No shining example of America’s pride. In this moment, he would silently rage against the universe.  _ Only for tonight _ , he told himself. Only for tonight, he would wish that he hadn't made it out of the ice.

 

###

 

The morning light found Steve in a better state of mind. The shadows were hiding once more, banished by the light of day. His good mood lasted through his meeting with Tony and working on the cleanup crew.

When JARVIS interrupted his dinner to inform him that Fury was on the line, that good mood evaporated like rain on the sun.

“Did he happen to say what he wanted JARVIS?”

“I’m afraid not, Captain. He is currently on a video call but I can adjust to voice only if you prefer.”

“It’s fine. Just send it through.”

Steve fell into attention. Habit from all those public appearance, glad-handing politicians and military officers. Fury wasn’t technically his superior as Captain America was listed as a contractor, but the man put in his time in the field. Steve knew his eye hadn’t been lost in a freak fishing accident.

“Captain,” Fury greeted when the video screen came to life.

“Director. Is this a personal call or did something else from the Valkyrie wash up?” Steve couldn’t help the dig. So much pain could have been avoided if they’d left the Tesseract in the ocean.

Fury’s face tightened, but smoothed out so quickly that most would have missed the microexpression. “More like a job offer. You never struck me as the type to remain idle. That is, if you’re done doing with your  _ drive _ .”

Steve didn’t bother to hide his smirk. Obviously Natasha had reported his answer verbatim.

When Fury realized that smirk was the only answer he was going to get, he continued with his pitch. “We’d put you up in D.C. Natasha would be your main partner, but you’d be running a full STRIKE team.”

“I’d be running the team?”

“Yeah. There’s a reason SHIELD academy has a whole course on your wartime tactics. The Commandos were crazy enough to make your plans work with little training and a shoestring budget for equipment.” That almost made him laugh. The Howlies hadn’t had a budget so much as a rule of ‘finders, keepers’. “I’d like to see if what you can do with an elite team that’s been trained by the best, and the kind of equipment that would have made your superiors weep back in the day.”

Steve couldn’t really picture Colonel Phillips crying. The hard-nosed man hadn’t been unfeeling, simply too consumed with saving lives to mourn the ones that were lost.

It took a moment for Steve to hear the silence. Fury was watching him, most likely waiting for a question or comment. 

“I’ll consider it, sir.”

Fury gave a harrumph. “Call me when you make a decision. And turn your phone back on Captain. How else are we supposed to find you?”

The screen flickered to black. 

Certain it was safe, Steve allowed himself a dark chuckle. The cell phone he’d been given from SHIELD was laying in the bottom of his bag. It had been there since the first day he had ridden off to tour the states. They both knew very well that SHIELD didn’t need the device to track him, but Steve could appreciate keeping up appearances. Let those who were listening believe he was really that naive. Steve didn’t mind being underestimated at all.

That night, tossing and turning on the fluffy monstrosity that called itself a mattress, Steve pondered Fury’s offer. There wasn’t any reason to turn him down really. The serum had given him certain skills and even though his work with the clean-up effort was likely appreciated he was easily replaceable. He could do the greatest good by working with SHIELD.

There was no rush to answer. Fury hadn’t put a time limit on the offer. So Steve let his days fall into a pattern: A morning run, breakfast in the Tower, working the daylight hours on the clean-up effort, dinner with Bruce or Tony or both, evenings spent catching up on history, and then came the long lonely nights.

Nights that dragged and drained him. 

Somehow being on the road had been easier. Laid out on the ground, under the stars, at some campsite or rest stop, he had been able to achieve a more restful sleep.

These nights, he had given up on the bed. He tossed a blanket and a pillow on the floor and stretched out. For a few hours he would find oblivion, then a noise would wake him and he would start his day all over. 

Thankfully the serum made it so he only needed a few hours a night to be at peak performance. Physically he was fine. Mentally he was wearing down.

He said nothing about it. Not to Tony. Not to Bruce, who he was becoming better acquainted with. He said nothing to Fury when he called to accept the job offer, telling him he would come down in a few weeks. He wouldn’t speak a word of it to anyone. Not when he knew how it would be viewed. If SHIELD got wind of his current mental turmoil they would have him on lock down and back to visiting doctors on a daily basis.

When Dr. Foster arrived, Tony changed up Steve’s routine. He insisted that Steve join the scientific trio for a night out at some local restaurant that was a big deal. Apparently. Steve spent most of the night trying to decipher the conversation that was rapidly flowing around him.

Dr. Foster was a competent, intelligent woman who had no need to be coddled. As evidenced by her story about slapping Loki. A story which had earned her a slow clap from Tony. Steve couldn’t help but be impressed.

Peggy had had the same no nonsense attitude, going for what she wanted despite those who might stand in her way.

Had Dr. Foster not been smitten on the Asgardian member of the team, and his own heart been fully healed, he might have tried his hand. He still wasn’t the best with talking to dames, but he had come a long way. Peggy had undoubtedly helped with that. It was only an idle daydream. A vague feeling. Nothing to pursue, simply an observation of possibilities. 

Possibilities had always drawn him. It was why he had turned to art when he had been young. He might not have been able to play like the other children, but in his notebook he could draw a whole world of thing he might have done if his body cooperated. Possibilities were what fueled his tactics. Just because something hadn’t been done didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. 

At the end of the evening, Steve had give Dr. Foster a firm handshake, along with a ‘welcome to the Tower’, then he’d gone back to his silent rooms.

The next day was to be the “Grand Opening” for Jane’s lab. It also happened to be Steve’s day off from the clean-up crew. Though he had been offered the option of joining in on the tour Tony planned for Dr. Foster, Steve declined. Most of his days had been filled physical activities. Today he wanted to let his mind rest. His plan was to start watching some of the movies that Tony insisted were essential to culture. JARVIS had a whole list for him. Wanting a snack before he started he when down to common kitchen for popcorn.

That was how he had ended up being caught threatening the microwave by one Darcy Lewis.

There were three times in his life that Steve could recall desire punching him hard and quick. Of the people who had inspired the feeling, two were long dead and one could hardly recall her own mind. It was almost a relief to feel it for the fourth time. He wasn’t immune, that part of him not frozen like he had feared.

However, Captain America knew better than to think a pretty face meant a person was harmless. Afterall, he was on a team with one of the most beautiful and deadly women in the world.

When Darcy had plunged ahead even in the face of his stare, he had felt a spark of admiration for her brazenness. Amusement grew in his chest and on his face as he watched her handle the appliance like a frightened animal. 

Steve had fought hard to keep the amusement from slipping when she rubbed up against him. Though the contact was brief, and she jumped away as if he'd burned her. Though he gave no outward sign of it, he had felt it profoundly. The movement had been innocent certainly. Darcy Lewis wore her emotions in her eyes. Even behind her glasses it was easy to see everything she did was artless.

She might have been innocent, yet he found his mind tripping down paths that were far from innocent. The light stain to her cheeks was intriguing and he wondered what would make that color darken. 

The laugh he gave was partly at himself, and allowed his own wit to peek out. Her bright smile, when it came, only fed into his impure thoughts. When she took his hand in greeting, he resisted the urge to rub his thumb over her soft skin. 

With Peggy, respect had come first and desire followed. Darcy had things rushing at him one after another. 

She was a woman of her time, but still unique. No one else he had met had stirred him.

_ Damn. _ Was this how Bucky had felt with all those dames he'd lined up for them both? 

He braced himself for the shaft of pain that came whenever he thought of his best friend but this time it felt muted. It might have been because of the unapologetic smile on Darcy's face was reminiscent of the other man’s grin, or maybe because the vivacious woman in the kitchen was treating him like a normal man.

JARVIS kept him from staring at her too long. As he moved past her to retrieve his popcorn he couldn’t help stepping closer than was necessary to get a deep whiff of the musky scent she wore. Popping a few pieces into his mouth, he caught the way she watched intently. He had seen that look more than a few times since the serum. More in this new century than back in the war, though even then. Mostly he ignored it as he rarely returned the sentiment. Maybe this time though…

He never finished the thought as her self-deprecating words cut through his brain. The way she spoke about herself wasn’t right, even if she was only a “lab monkey” as she said. He wasn’t able to express his displeasure due to JARVIS’ timely interruption. Her words were still on his brain, but he felt his lips curl in a warm smile when she said goodbye. That smile may have given away his attraction...or perhaps not. It was hard to tell. He definitely needed more practice if he had finally found someone worth pursuing.

_ Slow down Rogers _ , he cautioned himself. 

He wasn’t even completely sure if Darcy was interested. Or if  _ he _ was really interested. 

Perhaps his attraction would wane as quickly as it had come.

There were possibilities here. Possibilities he might explore or not.

Since she was staying in the Tower it would give him the chance to probe this new development.

D.C. could definitely wait. The city had been fine without him for the last 70 years, a few more weeks wouldn’t hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make my day and give me speed :) 
> 
> P.S. All mistakes are mine as sometimes I find it hard to English. :P


	5. Thor Arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! *Throws apology cookies* I swear I'm not just letting this sit. Life keeps giving me lemons and I'm running out of space for lemonade.
> 
> Hopefully this helps make up from the long absence. At least somewhat....

_“Time. Space. Matter. They are all the same. All connected. It is a difficult lesson, but one you must learn. Quickly.”_ The voice was clear and crisp. Bright sunlight in the dark. Ringing out in the stillness. Powerful. Knowledgeable. Confident. The voice was not for her, yet it was. She was compelled to listen. Above her, beneath her feet, all around her were stars. Bright gassy giants. Red dwarves. Some bursting into supernovas. Others collapsing into black holes. A single moment stretched into eternity. For a precious second, she understood it all. Everything. The universe itself whispered its secrets to her.

Then the weightlessness she had been feeling dissolved. She was falling, pulled down by gravity to the closest star.

She could feel the heat, but she strangely she felt no fear. No fear of death. For death would be painless.

_Bam!_

The crash startled Darcy out of the dreamscape.

Instinct had her rolling out of bed, straight onto the floor, pulling her sheets and blankets with her. On the furthest side of the bed from the door, she tried to stay still. Her stomach pressed into the carpet, pulse pounding in fear she listened intently to see what would happen next. Was it another attack? What if the portal had reopened? What if Tony had finally pissed off the wrong people? What if...

"Lady Darcy! Are you within?" The voice that reverberated in her apartment was unmistakable.

"Oh my fucking ...THOR!"

Darcy was not amused. She pushed herself up to her knees, taking a moment to catch her breath. A shot of adrenaline was not her preferred method of waking. Espresso was definitely preferable.

Witnessing three alien invasions (two first-hand) and living in a building owned by the most publicly prominent (and easily located) Avenger made Darcy's instinctual dive for cover completely legit. Truly. Still she was happy that no one had seen it. Untangling her feet from the sheets she had pulled down with her, Darcy rose to find the golden haired god.

There may have been threats of selling nude pics of him to the tabloids muttered under her breath as she threw open the bedroom door, but as soon as she saw his stupid grin she knew she could never follow through. (Besides she was sure that if she did Jane would kill her in some way undetectable by science, and she would end up on one of those late night mysterious murder shows.)

He looked far too perky for a man wearing rubber duckie pajama pants. "Have I woken you," thunderhead asked, probably taking in her sleep-mussed hair and disgruntled look.

Darcy rolled her eyes and choose not to answer. Her synapses weren't firing enough to temper her mouth, and if she snapped at Thor too harshly she would feel like she kicked a puppy.

Coffee was needed before anything else. Trudging to the kitchenette she realized that in her haste to get to the essentials last night she had never actually unpacked her most sacred item: the coffee maker.

Her head hit the counter with a soft thud while she moaned like a dying thing.

Thor, ever protective, was instantly concerned. "Lady Darcy? Are you well? Shall I call for Jane?"

"Coffee," she wailed in the most pathetic voice she could muster.

"Do you have some ailment that this drink will cure," he asked, distressed on her behalf.

"Yes!"

"I shall procure some immediately!"

Darcy straightened in time to see him hurry out the door. She sighed, knowing that he was likely to get into trouble before he actually located a cup of coffee.

It appeared she wasn't the only one thinking that when JARVIS spoke up. "Ms. Lewis, may I suggest advising Mr. Odinson how to retrieve your coffee before he injures himself?"

With another sigh, she agreed. "Yeah. I'm on it." She adjusted her pajama top as she headed for the the door.

"May I also suggest, Ms. Lewis, that you use the coffee machine on the main floor until you are able to locate your own? It is mostly automated and I can have a cup prepared before you arrive if you give me your specifications."

She froze in the doorway, throwing a pathetically grateful look to where she knew a camera was located. (She had totally scoped out the camera situation the night before - no way was she changing anywhere Stark could get footage of it.) "Oh my god, Jarvis, you are my new best friend. Call me Darcy, 'kay?

Though she knew intellectually that Jarvis was purely computer code she couldn’t help but think of him as Pinocchio. Maybe she was assigning human emotions to something that didn’t have them, but she couldn’t help but think he sounded pleased by her request. "As you wish, Darcy."

It wasn't hard to find Thor. All she had to do was following the echoing sound of his voice. "Lady Darcy is my lightning sister. We must cure her immediately!"

Darcy couldn't hear Jane's reply but she knew it probably wasn't flattering. Stepping into Jane and Thor's suite, she braced herself for a long day.

Two hours and three cups of coffee later (don't judge, she needed it), Darcy was in Jane's lab setting up her workstation. She wouldn't be doing most of the experimentation or hands-on bits, but she would be compiling data so she needed a space of her own. Not to mention that she needed a spot for her knick-knacks and drawers to fill with treats for bribing single-minded scientists.

Thor had decided to spend his day in the lab with them. He had already moved several pieces of Jane’s equipment for her, and was currently in the small lounge area. Though he seemed engrossed in something on the tablet Stark had given him, he would still look up every so often to stare at Jane. It was a look filled with such genuine affection that Darcy couldn’t help but take a discrete picture.

She totally wasn’t going to share it online. (Those NDAs of Pepper’s had been serious!) But she was sorely tempted. It was exactly the kind of picture that fit #relationshipgoals perfectly.

Unable to stand watching him mooning over his Lady Love any longer, Darcy took things into her own hands. “Hey, Thor. Can you help me for a minute?”

Immediately, he set down the table and came to her side. “Of course, Darcy. How may I assist?”

Darcy tried not to imagine a tail wagging happily behind him and he drew close. In her mind, he would always be a giant golden labrador, though he had certainly matured during his long absence. She offered him a chance to show off his muscles to his Lady by moving the furniture around and she could see his arms quiver with anticipation.

Some time later, after Thor had moved the couch three times, Darcy declared herself satisfied with the new arrangement of furniture.

To thank him, she promised him she would make lunch.

Of course, she wasn’t going to do cooking on a Thor-scale in her kitchenette, so she headed for the common level.

Stepping off the elevator, she was focused on the phone in her hand. She might not have been able to update her feeds with Thor’s face, but this was still her main source of news. She was so invested that she wasn’t watching where she was going.

The next thing she knew her ass was on the ground and her head felt a little sore.

Looking up - way up - she realized she had smacked right into Captain America. _Shit._ She had bounced off him with such force that she had been thrown back about a foot, lost her balance, and ended up on the ground. Somehow she had kept a grip on her phone.

It would have been comical had it not been so embarrassing.

Meeting his gorgeously concerned gaze, she found herself laughing despite the blush growing on her cheeks. "I knew your pecs were killer, Rogers. Didn't think I'd get first hand experience though."

He offered her his hand and an apologetic smile. (There also may have been a hint of red on the tips of his ears, but Darcy was smart enough not to comment.) "I'm sorry, Ms. Lewis. I wasn't paying attention."

"Darcy," she said taking his hand.

"What?" He really was adorable when he was flustered.

"Call me Darcy. I figure it's lady's choice after you knock her down."

That got a huff of laughter out of him. "Darcy it is then. I truly am sorry, Darcy."

"No worries," she replied as she brushed herself off. "On your way out?" There was a pause while he thought about his response and she realized that he might not be able to talk about where he was going or what he was doing, cause you know that whole super secret organization thing (duh). "Nevermind. If you tell me you might have to kill me and I really don't want to get blood on these shoes."

Blue eyes tracked down to the footwear she indicated and then slowly trailed back up. When his gaze clashed with hers again she felt like someone had set her insides to broil.

"I was on my way down to one of the volunteer sites,” he explained. “Usually I get an early start, but I had an important phone call this morning.” He paused. “I might grab something to eat first though. Were you taking a lunch break?”

Darcy tried very very hard not to read into that question. This was Captain America after all. He totally didn't mean for that to sound like an invitation. "I, uh, I'm on my way to the kitchen to make lunch for the science crusaders. And Thor. I could make an extra helping if you like? Its nothing fancy, just macaroni and cheese."

His slow warm smile was the most damn patriotic thing she had seen all day. Definitely made her want to salute the flag and sing the national anthem. "I would love to try some."

The tool selection in the kitchen was as impressive as Darcy had imagined. There was every type of pot, pan, and dish. There was a whole spice cabinet that contained things Darcy didn’t even know how to pronounce. (There would definitely be googling later to find out what the f “asafoetida” was.) For now she was going to keep it simple.

“Is making lunch part of your wrangler duties?”

Chuckling, Darcy started pulling ingredients out of the fridge. “Nah. Not really. I have to make sure they get fed, sure. But I’m not required to cook or anything. I can order delivery from downstairs or from anywhere in the city I imagine. Actually, if I mention Tony’s name I could probably get anyone in the state to deliver.”

As she began to back out of the fridge she almost ran right into Steve again. She paused, her arms full. There was that little smirk again. Hot damn.

He cleared his throat.

It took her a minute to realize that he was holding out his hands to help her carry things. “Right.” She shoved the load into his larger arms. “Thanks.” She went searching for the next things she needed in the pantry.

Out of view she smacked her own forehead. Gently.

Coming back into the main space, she picked up the thread of conversation again. “I like cooking though. While I’ve been with Jane our grocery budget and/or kitchen setup has been lacking. This is a chance for me to have some fun. And if I’m doing it all on Tony’s dime so much the better.”

Steve smiled.

Just like that they were off. Steve told her about how he learned to cook the necessities simply to avoid eating another one of best friend’s horrible creations. He told her how the little old ladies on his block would give them leftovers sometimes because he always was so skinny.

Conversation bounced around, but it felt natural. Nothing forced. There were pauses but not because either of them had run out of things to say. Darcy could admit that she was the bigger talker but Steve wasn’t left behind in any sense.

As they moved around each other, Darcy found him to be a help more than a hindrance though he claimed his culinary skills were very limited. He would mix while she measured, fetch when she needed something. He even used those glorious muscles to grate chunks of cheese.

Early on, Darcy had put on music via Jarvis. She could help the instinct to sway or wiggle when the beat got to her. Though Steve hadn’t commented, she had felt his eyes on her.

Her dancing inspired a ridiculous story about his days with the Howling Commandos that she was swear was half lies if she had heard it from anyone else.

The mac and cheese was in the oven (all six casserole dishes), and they were cleaning up the kitchen, as his story wrapped up. When her laughter finally petered out, she found him staring at her. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

The pause this time was different. Charged with something she wasn’t sure how to categorize. "Not at all.” Another pause, as he wiped the same spot again. “Usually I...I don't talk about the Commandos. But you...you remind me of them a little, I guess. With you it's easy to talk about it."

Never in her life had Darcy been more pleased by a compliment. Of course in true Lewis fashion she couldn't say thank you and move on. "Thanks, Steve. I'm not sure how a lab monkey rates with the Howling Commandos, but I’ll take it. If I wasn’t on social media lock down I’d totally be taking a selfie with you right now to post."

There was that frown again. Like deja vu she was reminded of yesterday. And like yesterday, they were interrupted before he could say whatever was on his mind.

"Lady Darcy?" The booming voice rolled through the room and Darcy was grateful for it.

"In here, Thor," she called.

He appeared in the doorway, his golden locks flowing behind him like a shampoo commercial. "I have come to assist." He spotted Rogers right off. "Ah! Captain! Have you come to feast with us as well?"

Steve’s frown lifted but he still threw Darcy a look that she saw out of the corner of her eye and choose to ignore. "Yes. Though there isn't much left to do except wait. Everything's in the oven already." He indicated the appliance with a wave of his hand and Thor crouched to take a look at the bubbling cheese.

"It has a most pleasant aroma," he announced as he straightened. "Tis well done, Darcy."

Darcy smiled up at him. He really was adorable. "Aww, thanks big guy." She laid a hand on his arm of out habit. Darcy had always been a tactile person. Usually she held that particular need in check, but Thor never minded (and who wouldn't want to touch a god?). She caught the frown on Steve’s face before he could conceal it. (Now wasn't that strange.)

Removing her hand, she turned to the door. "Well boys, I need the little girl's room, so I'll be back. When the buzzer goes off, pull them all out. Two for the scientists, the other four are yours to fight over. Or share. Or whatever."

Walking out, she kept her held high and her usual careless attitude in her step. Facing the mirror in the bathroom, she pulled off her glasses and rubbed her hands over her face. Steve Rogers was just a man.

 _Yeah right,_ her inner critic snorted. _And Thor is just a model for Lo'real._

She chuckled a little at her own sarcasm as she dropped her hands to the counter. Captain America was an icon. A national treasure. He should be stuffy and rigid. Instead, Steve was fun and casual. He was someone she could be friends with easily. Someone who could be more. But...(and this was a big but. Like a "Baby Got Back" back up dancer booty.) Darcy Lewis knew she would screw it up. There was no way she would be able to keep Mr. America even if she got the chance to take him. Which meant she had to get herself under control now. She had to stop thinking of him as anything more than a potential friend. She had to stop finding those little smirks of his endearing.

 _Get it together, Lewis,_ she coached herself. Straightening, she tried on her nothing-bothering-me smile. It fit like a glove. With smile firmly in place, she could push down all the other thoughts. Steve would be her friend. She would not lust after anything else from him.

Walking back into the kitchen, she found a god and a national treasure shuffling mac and cheese into their faces like it was the last meal they were going to get. Rolling her eyes, she picked up two of the casserole dishes and headed down to the lab for feeding time. It was going to be a long day.

Evening brought the vindication for Darcy’s prediction about Jane’s new lab space. The petite astrophysicist was dug into the lab like a tick on a dog. It was already past seven and Jane showed no signs of winding down. Tony was also far from finished. He was blaring AC/DC louder than humans should be able to withstand. It didn't bother Darcy. She liked his taste (in music at least). Plus Tony was three floors up and on the opposite side of the building (Pepper had insisted on having nothing but storage above or below his lab due to the frequency of explosions), behind soundproof walls. However, Darcy was done for the day. She had put in enough hours and she was getting hungry. Hunger made her cranky.

She was about to give up on Jane and go back to her apartment for a bit (she would check on Jane later of course), when Jarvis lowered her music. "Darcy, Captain Rogers wishes to know if you would like to join him and Dr. Banner for dinner."

"Yes," she said jumping up. "That would be fabulous."

"Dinner will be held on the common floor. I believe Dr. Banner is planning to show Captain Rogers how to use Netflix as well."

She grinned while she gathered her things. She would drop these off in her room, and while she was there she could freshen up. Maybe change her shirt. She was sure she didn't smell but it was after hours now, she could change without anyone questioning it. As she laid a hand on her cell, she paused. What was she doing? She was way too enthusiastic over dinner with potential friends.

Palm met forehead with a smack. _Damnit Lewis! You are supposed to be thinking of him a friend! Friends do not go put on lipstick and change outfits just to hang out together._

Groaning, she pulled her hand from her forehead and headed out the door. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, Darcy."

"Could you please let me know if Jane leaves the lab? Tony too. If not, can you remind me when it's ten so I can come pry them out."

"Of course, Darcy."

"And Jarvis?"

"Yes?"

"You're the best."

"Of course, Darcy."

 

###

 

The next day was when the real work began. Well...for Jane at least.

Jane had finished moving things in the lab around to her satisfaction, and now she was staring at data readouts and scribbling in her notebook.

Darcy, on the other hand, was bored. Which meant she was entertaining herself by watching cute animal videos and making new playlists.

Two hours in, she decided that she should probably check in on the other labs. Grabbing her phone and her travel coffee cup, she took a trip up the stairs to Bruce’s lab level. Technically, Bruce had his own assistant, but Darcy knew she was the only person at assistant paygrade that was living on site. Which totally meant that Darcy had some sort of seniority…At least that’s what she was going with.

All the doors opened without Darcy even having to ask. Still she took the time to glance up and say “thank you” to Jarvis for the courtesy.

Unlike the 80th floor, where Jane shared the square footage with several labs, Bruce had the entire space for himself. It was still divided into several areas, including a containment chamber for if/when the Hulk came out to play.

When she spotted Bruce in the main research area with a younger blonde-haired man, Darcy debated interrupting. They appeared to be actually working, the blonde man talking and Bruce typing at one of the computer stations.

With a shrug, she bypassed the door and entered the elevator instead to take her up two more floors.

The elevator opened into a small entryway, where there were very blatant cameras and security. Still the door slid aside for her easily.

Music blared, but the level dropped considerable as she entered.

Tony gave her a half-hearted glare through the floating holograms around him. “Can I help you with something, Lewis?”

“Yep. I'm bored.”

Tony snorted. “I’m not a babysitting service, Lewis. There are 93 floors in this building. I’m sure you can find entertainment somewhere.” His attention went back to his diagrams, but Darcy wasn’t discouraged in the slightest.

She poked around the space until Tony heaved a sigh. “I’m not going to get rid of you am I?”

“Nope.”

His gaze bore into her as if she was an engineering project that wasn’t going the way he wanted. Sort of clinical, but determined, and highlighted by the knowledge that he knew he was a genius. “What if I pay you?”

Darcy’s response was to take a seat on his coffee table.

“Seriously!? What do you want, Lewis?”

“I have some rules.”

His arms crossed over his chest defensively. “Rules?”

“You’re not the only one who has to follow them. Jane already knows them and if Bruce shows that his habits are as bad as yours I’ll make him follow them too.”

“What makes you think I’m going to follow any rules you give me?”

“Pepper said to tell you that she gave me 12%.” Though the phrase hadn’t really been explained, the flinch Tony gave was proof that it would work.

With a huff, Tony flung himself onto a spinny chair. “Fine. What are your rules?”

“We’ll take it one at a time.  When was the last time you ate?”

“I ate. I’m eating right now.” He flung out a hand to point to the green concoction that sat in a clear cup on the counter by where he had been standing.

“Right. Well, rule 1: Brains need at least 1500 calories a day to function….And not all of those calories can be in liquid form.” The latter was a last second addition but considering who she was talking to she figured it probably needed to be explicitly stated.

He was pouting. That was definitely a pout, but Darcy decided to be the bigger person and not call him on it. “Anything else,” he asked.

Jumping up to her feet she shook her head. “Not yet. Have fun sciencing!” She made her escape before he could say more.

Deciding to go see how far security would let her get in to the other lab spaces before stopping her she headed back to the elevator.  As the car began to move, a small ping came from above.

“If I may, Darcy?”

“What’s up, Jarvis?”

“That was very well done.”

She gave a thumbs up to the camera. Oh yeah, Darcy totally had it in good with the electronic overlord of the building. This was going to be more fun than she thought.

 

###

 

The next two weeks seemed to fly by. There were so many things to explore.

And the company wasn’t half bad either.

Tony was over his pout. Darcy was waiting for the right moment to drop the next rule on him. Bruce had found out and seemed entertained by the whole thing. Though he was still quiet on the whole, she had gotten to see a few flashes of personality.

Jane was being Jane like always. When she wasn’t caught up in the skies, she was a good friend. (They had definitely done midnight margaritas in the lab already.) Thor was around alot but his presence wasn’t stifling. He was like a brother of sorts. Or what Darcy imagined a brother might be like.

Steve… Steve was something else. He was, at the very least, an entertaining conversationalist and interesting acquaintance. At best, he was a casual friend. It was hard for her to tell where the line was supposed to be though. On one hand, her lady parts were telling her brain that clinging to his incredible shoulders like a koala was a perfectly acceptable response to his smile. On the other hand, there were times when he would pull back. Close down, though there wasn’t much of an outward change. It was mostly in the eyes. They would darken a shade. A shadow blocking out the sun, though the daylight wasn’t really gone.

Darcy didn’t know how to read the change. Was it because she was trying to so hard to make sure any flirty was only done teasingly? Was he taking that as rejection? Because she wasn’t rejecting him. Well...she was but she wasn’t. She wanted his friendship. She just couldn’t let herself even think about more. Because more meant hope. And hope was a very tricky thing.

One night, Thor took Jane out for date night. Leaving Darcy to have dinner with the remaining residents.

Bruce and Tony were already eating and Darcy was piling up her plate with Chinese food when Steve walked in.

Never one to pass up an opportunity to rile someone up, Tony called out. "So you all finished with the clean-up, Cap? Or have you decided to act your age and start going to bed before eight?"

Darcy knew that Steve had been helping with the clean-up efforts but he was always back in time for dinner. And there had been several times he had joined in on lunch as well. Yet, looking at Steve’s face, she could help but wonder if Tony was aware of that or not.

Steve didn't bothered to prod Tony back. Darcy knew that he could give as good as he got, but with Tony he mostly backed down first. She had wondered why at first, but after seeing Tony’s pout (which had lasted for nearly three days) she could understand. Tony was about six years old maturity wise and and when arguing with a child you were never a winner.

However, Darcy wasn’t as dignified as Steve. "Does that mean you're going to show him all the best places for an early bird special," she questioned the genius.

Tony smirked at her as he poured himself another drink from the bar. "You're funny, Lewis. Isn't it about time for your mom to pick you up though? Visitation hours for the home are about over," he snarked, waving his glass at Steve.

"I think you're confused, grandpa," she said falsely sweet. "You got kicked out of all the nursing homes, remember?" She shot a look at Bruce and Steve. "Mom and Dad had to bring you home to live with us."

Bruce gave Steve a sidelong glance before he pronounced calmly with a long suffering sigh, "She gets it from your side of the family."

There was a second of silence before everyone broke into laughter. Even Tony.

Not to be outdone, Steve finally piped up. "Wait. Are you the mom or the dad in this scenario? Because I would like to point out that you would definitely look better in an apron."

This, of course, sparked a heated debate between Darcy and Tony about which of the Avengers would look better in women's clothing. Excluding Natasha of course. Though that was mainly because Tony claimed she was a "spy not a woman". Didn't really make all that much sense to Darcy, but Bruce and Steve both went with it so what the hell.


	6. Stark's Experiment

Though it was blasphemy to even think, the coffee wasn’t cutting it. Not on this particular morning anyway.

Last night had been another one of those crazy vivid space dreams. After it had woken her up, Darcy hadn’t been able to get back to sleep.

She was blaming Jane.

To be honest, Darcy had always had vivid dreams. Even as a child, the songs she listened to throughout the day influenced her night. When her parents had died, she had dreamed of crunching metal, breaking glass, and squealing tires for months though she hadn’t even been there when the accident occurred.

Ever since her internship with Jane though, her dreams had started to revolve around stars and wormholes and exploding suns...etc. The dreams didn’t come every night thankfully. Nor did they make her wake with a pounding heart and the fading sense of falling every time either. It happened often enough to be a minor annoyance and nothing more.

However, there was the side effect of making Darcy a grouch no matter how much caffeine she pumped in her system.

Jane had already seen the signs. When Thor had come blustering in, Jane had grabbed his arm and dragged him away with some excuse about wanting Eggs Benedict.

Jane was a good friend.

In an empty lab, Darcy attempted to find her groove. Step one: crank up the tunes.

“Hey, sexy circuits?”

A pause. “May I ask if you are referring to me,” Jarvis asked.

Darcy felt a smile poke at the corners of her mouth. “Of course. You know anybody else with circuits as sexy as yours?”

The pause was a little longer this time. “I am flattered. If I was able I would blush.”

It might have been immature, but Darcy felt a small rush of pride at being able to fluster the AI. “You’re adorable. I’m assuming you have access to every digital footprint I’ve ever made, right?”

“That would be a logical assumption given Sir’s tendencies.”

“Then could you put on the ‘Welcome to Walmart, get your shit and get out’ playlist. Please?”

There was second of dead air, before the speakers filled the room with her music.

“Thanks, Jarvis!” She gave a thumbs up to the nearest camera.

Two tracks in and Darcy found herself dancing. It was a natural state for her. The playlist was working at bringing up her mood and energy levels. While the music moved her, she spent some time cleaning up. The empty pop-tart wrappers (Thor), the leftover Chinese from last night (Jane’s breakfast), and the crumpled napkins (only the ones without Jane’s notes scrawled on them) went into the trash. The dirty coffee cups and utensils went in the small sink by the coffee bar.

Absorbed in the songs, Darcy never noticed that someone was watching through the glass wall.

 

###

 

Steve hadn’t meant to go down to the labs.

Really.

He had gotten in the elevator intending to head down to the garage for his bike, and then on to where the clean-up crew was working. Somehow his body hadn’t gone with that plan. He’d found himself pressing the button for Foster’s lab level. Then his feet had carried him right out of the elevator doors.

Now he was standing in the hall and staring as Darcy danced her way around the space.

He couldn’t seem to make himself look away. She didn’t dance like the women in the dance halls all those years ago. Or like the showgirls he had toured the country with. Nor was she like the dancers he saw on television these days.

This was unrestrained, untrained. It was happiness in motion without barriers or conformity.

She moved the way she laughed. With her whole body. Lighting up from the inside. Until the joy was overflowing and spilled out. Whatever she was feeling was spun out into the air by the movements.

This was happiness.

He wondered what sadness would look like. Anger. Lust. How would she move?

Possibilities spun out in his mind. Hair flying out behind her, hips twisting, arms around a partner.

Phantom hands rested on his chest as his mind gave startling detail to his imaginings.

But the phantom didn’t wear Darcy’s face.

_ No _ .

Abruptly, he stepped back. Dispelling the image.

Turning on a heel, he retreated. Away from the music. Away from the kinetic energy that was just beyond the glass.

That happiness wasn’t for him. His happiness was long gone.

 

###

 

“So let me get this straight… A giant stole your hammer?”

Thor nodded even as crumbs from the cookie he was snacking on fell from his mouth.

“And he wanted to offer it as a gift to your mother when she married him? Which somehow made sense to this guy even though Frigga was already married.”

“Mm-hm.”

“And instead of just sneaking in and stealing it back in middle of the night, you decided the best plan was to dress up as a woman so he would hand it right back to you?”

“Indeed. It was a most cunning plan,” Thor stated seriously. His tone far more subdued than usual.

Darcy opened her mouth to explain to him the multitude of reasons why that was stupid plan. However, Jane had apparently returned from science land because she was standing behind Thor and shaking her head.

“...Right. Most cunning.”

Jane gave a thumbs up and a smile over Thor’s shoulder.

Apparently, there were landmines attached to this particular tale and Darcy did not want to step on one. Ever a good friend, Jane was watching out for her.

“So… I think I’m going to go see what our options are for dinner…”

When Jane had brought Thor back to the freshly cleaned lab earlier, she had dived right back into science. Ever since, Thor had been entertaining Darcy with tales of his wild adventures. They mostly featured the Warriors Three and Sif, but occasionally Loki’s name would come up. Darcy had carefully been sidestepping commenting on the adopted royal.

Since Jane had warned her off on that last one, Darcy could only assume Loki was involved somehow. Deciding to escape for awhile would give Jane a chance to  _ canoodle _ with Thor and get the god out of whatever heavy mood the story telling had brought on.

There was no one in the common area when she arrived, and no one in the kitchen either. She was perusing the cabinets, seeing if there was anything that jumped out at her for dinner, when she heard Steve coming. He was talking on the phone, and his voice was easily recognizable even if she couldn’t hear his footsteps.

“...told Fury I would be there when I could. There are things here I have to finish first.” A pause as the person on the other end of the line responded. “I understand that.” Another pause. “Stark is still breathing and will be when I leave.”

His voice was getting closer, his destination obviously the kitchen.

“I already said. There are…” His voice trailed off as he stepped into the doorway and spotted her.

 

Darcy only gave him a glance and a small welcoming smile before turning back to what she was doing. She totally was not listening to his conversation.

“There are things I have to take care of. I will let you know when I plan on heading down. If that doesn’t satisfy you then tell the Director that I could decide to take another drive to clear my head.”

Whatever the response was, it made Steve smirk. He ended with a goodbye before entering the kitchen fully.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted. 

“Hey, Steve. How’s it going?”

“Good. Finished with the clean up a little early today. We hit a spot where they need to bring in some heavy equipment.”

“Heavy equipment? You mean you don’t count?” Her teasing was rewarded by a pink tint to his cheeks and ears. 

“I, uh… They don’t exactly know who I am down there. Or if they do, everyone is good enough to look the other way. I want to actually help, not be used as an image. The suit would get in the way. Stark can do all of the public relations as far as I’m concerned.”

There was a friendly silence as Darcy thought about his answer and Steve pulled out a drink from the fridge. 

“What is it that you actually do down there?” She was curious. She had seen places where the city was still cordoned off by orange cones and yellow tape, but she hadn’t really pictured Captain America putting up drywall.

“Its nothing glamorous, mostly grunt work, but it’s things that need doing. The world needed us to help in a big way before. Now the city needs us just as badly if in a smaller way.”

The urge to reach up and pinch his cheeks was strong. He was an amazing man. A man who would be physically unable to leave if he saw someone in trouble.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face for he shifted uncomfortably and attempted to hide behind the plastic bottle he held. "Really it’s no big deal. You're welcome to come down and see if you like," he offered.

 

###

 

“Hey Arnie!” Darcy waved at the older man behind the security desk. 

“Miss Lewis,” he returned as he got to his feet. Darcy slowed her pace. “Haven’t seen you around much? Have you settled in?” He came out from behind the desk and fell into step beside her.

“Oh yeah. This place is like it’s own little eco-system, you know? I don’t think I’ve set foot outside in over a week. I mean, I got some fresh air from the balcony and the roof and whatnot, but I haven’t been outside on street-level in a while.”

Arnie nodded along with her explanation.“What brings you out today then?”

“A bit of community service.” Darcy patted the bulging bag at her hip. It matched the backpack over her shoulders.

“Well let me get the door for you.” He took two quick steps to get in front of her and pull the glass door open.

“Thank you, kindly.” Darcy stepped through the first door and then, to prevent Arnie from having to grab the second door, she carefully made her way into the automated revolving doors.

She gave Arnie a wave over her shoulder, as she matched her step the the moving door’s speed. Although she agreed with revolving doors in a general sense, the automated ones sort of freaked her out. She had this irrational fear that they would start spinning wildly and she would somehow be crushed.

Out on the sidewalk, safely away from the spinning doors of potential death, Darcy pulled out her phone to verify the directions she had been given.

Today was all about taking Steve up on his offer. Thor had dragged Jane out of the lab for some “quality time” before he headed back to space for a bit, and Tony was in some kind of meeting for SI. Which meant Darcy had nothing to except bother Bruce, and she didn’t really think they were on that level yet.

Steve had told her the area his volunteer group were working in, and Jarvis had been able to give her more detailed instructions on how to get there. Her future electronic overlord had even downloaded the directions to her phone so she wouldn’t get lost in the manic pace of New York. She could have taken a cab, but she had time to kill and she hadn’t actually been on the subway before.    
Today was going to be an adventure.

When she finally approached her destination, she wasn’t surprised to see that Steve was working with some really muscular folks. No doubt they had put him with a group that was doing a lot of heavy lifting. Still, her eyes were able to pick out which of the distant figures was Steve. It was in the way he moved. Light on his feet, despite being constructed of such dense materials. 

She paused outside the work site and watched through the chain-link fence. 

Personally, she had never been one for manual labor, but watching Steve work was a thing of beauty. His movements were smooth and purposeful. Those impressive shoulders and arms flexing in repeated action.

"Lookin' fer somethin', lady?" The voice was friendly if a little rough around the edges. It was attached to an older man in an orange hard hat and matching vest. He was a big guy with a paunch in the middle, but he still had the hardened frame of a man who had worked with his hands for years. The accent wasn’t New York native though she couldn’t place it precisely.

Foreman was written in black lettering along the side of the hard hat. "Yeah. You, big guy," she said with a sassy wink.

The man gave a bark of a laugh. "Don't be teasin', sweetheart.” He placed a hand over his heart. “My old ticker can't take it."

She grinned at him unrepentantly. "You know who's the boss man around here?"

The man tipped back his hat with a finger to look at her more closely, suspicion in his eyes. "You some sorta reporter or somethin'?"

"No, sir. Think of me as Little Red Riding Hood. I'm just delivering treats to the hungry wolves." She gestured to the bags.

The suspicion bled out from his gaze. He tossed his head toward a gap in the fence where she could enter. “Got plenty a wolves here. Let me call 'em in." 

Darcy walked through the entrance and started pulling the bags from her shoulders. She jumped when a sharp whistle sliced through the noise. The foreman gave her a grin.

“Got a table over here you can use,” he said, as he lead her over.

Darcy could see the workers coming as she quickly began to unload the contents of the her bags. She had raided Tony’s cupboards and come up with a multitude of sweets and treats to help the volunteers power through their day. When she finished with the backpack she started on the messenger bag. Already, the scavengers were picking over the options. She had nearly emptied the messenger bag into waiting hands, when she felt someone move into her space.

There were two of them. And they appeared to have a hunger for something other than food.

Darcy knew their type. These were the kind of men who had prompted her purchase of taser in the first place. One stood almost directly behind her, only slightly to the right. The other was on her left, mere inches from her arm.

"Say, sugar," said Tweedledee on the left. "Your man know that you're down here with us?" He shifted on his feet, inching further into her personal bubble.

Now that irked her. "I don't need to report to any man."

"Ain't got a man, darlin'? That's a damn shame," Tweedledum replied behind her. She could practically feel his hot breath on her neck. It made her skin crawl.

"You could call me and tell me where you're gonna be," Tweedledee offered.

Her hand was still in her bag. Without drawing attention, she wrapped her palm about the grip of her taser. "No thanks."

Tweedledum moved more to her right. She could see his hand lifting as if he was going to grab at her. She tightened her grip on the taser, bracing for the invasion, but the touch never came. 

"The lady said no."

Darcy jerked her head around to find Steve with a hand on the man’s shoulder. If the scowl on his face didn't say back off in big enough letters, the increasing tightness of the grip on the man's shoulder did. Tweedledum winced and threw up his hands in surrender. Steve released him, and kept glaring until Tweedledee and Tweedledum both backed away. 

When they had moved over thirty feet away, and were no longer looking at Darcy, Steve finally broke his stare. Unfortunately, he only moved it to her. 

Darcy was given a reprieve by the boss man ambling over. He shared a nod with Steve before addressing Darcy. “I’m sorry bout those two. I know their mamas taught them better. I’ll take care of ‘em.”

"It's cool. No worries, big guy," she assured him. He gave her a smile then turned his attention to the dynamic dipshits.

Without a buffer, Darcy was forced to face Steve. He was not pleased. It wasn’t quite a scowl on his face. It was much worse. The look screamed “all of America is disappointed in you”. In fact, she had no doubt that if he turned by the intensity he could crush a person’s spirit with that look alone. 

He didn't offer word. He continued to gaze at her intently with arms crossed over his chest, waiting her out.

Darcy did not do well with silence.

"What," she finally demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, mirroring his posture.

"What are you doing down here?"

Her brows furrowed. He had invited her hadn't he. Maybe she had misunderstood. Maybe he had only said that in the moment. No way to tell unless she asked him. "I was invited." She tried to make it sound like a statement, but as the words left her mouth she knew she had failed.

That disappointed look didn't disappear. "I mean what are you doing down here by yourself? It's dangerous. I didn't mean for you to trek all over New York alone. I would have brought you with me."

_ Oh _ .

"Well you should have said that to begin with," she huffed. "Besides, I am perfectly capable of defending myself. I took out Thor once." She didn't mention that he had been hit with a car first.

He didn't seem overly impressed, but at least his lips twitched with what might have been a smile.

He let the subject drop while he showed her around and introduced her to a few people. He wasn't going by his own name here, instead he called himself JB, and Darcy could understand the wisdom of that. As the crew started to finish their breaks and head back to work, he walked over the boss man. She couldn't hear what was said but in less than a minute he was striding back to her while the boss man gave her a wave.

"I'm taking you home," Steve announced as he gently took her elbow. He led her around the corner to his bike. She really wanted to refuse. Pressing up against his back while the wind whipped around them was not a great way to keep him in the friend category in her mind. But she didn't want to risk another "America is disappointed in you" face. Two in the same day would be crushing.

She had to wear the helmet (not sexy), but the feel of having her arms around him definitely made up for it. While they sped through the streets, Darcy savored the moment. Might never have another one quite like this, she thought.

 

###

 

"Lewis! Just the monkey I was looking for," Tony said, as he came up alongside her in the hallway.

Darcy rolled her eyes but let the monkey comment slide. Living and working with Tony could be a test of patience. However, she chose to take monkey as a term of endearment from Tony's warped mind. "What can I do for you, Tony?"

He kept several feet of space between them while he strode beside her. He did the same with everyone, claiming that he didn't like to be touched. Darcy had her suspicions about other reasons than personal preference but she kept her thoughts to herself. Everybody had their issues.

"I need your help with an experiment." His tone said he was trying too hard to be casual about the request.

Quirking an eyebrow in disbelief, she gave Tony a look over her glasses. That statement was hard to believe as they were walking away from his lab not toward it.

"It’s in the common room," he replied as if he had heard her question. "Trust me." Which, of course, did not inspire confidence. "It will take ten minutes tops."

Darcy remained silent. This was Tony. She had heard all sorts of warnings from Pepper. Even Bruce had offered comments of caution.

"Help me and I'll have a coffee bar installed in your room."

.... "Deal." Warnings were only suggestions after all.

Tony smiled like a cat in cream.

This was going to end badly. She could feel it in her bones. But at least she would have coffee to get her through the consequences.

Entering the common area she didn't see anything that looked like an experiment. Only Steve...oh no.

"Like I said Lewis, fuck the physics of it,” Tony exclaimed enthusiastically. “Those motherfuckers are wrong."

Darcy watched as Steve nearly choked on the water he had been attempting to drink.

"Tony!" He said giving the scientist a reproachful glare.

"What? I'm right. I know I'm right,” he said as he reached for an apple from the fruit bowl someone had left sitting on the table.

"Language," Steve admonished, throwing a considering glance at Darcy.

Darcy was by no means stupid. Astrophysics, genetics, and robotics may not have been her thing, and her brain certainly paled in comparison to Jane's, but she was far from ignorant. She immediately understood what game Tony was trying to play. Steve had a reputation for not liking some of the more colorful vernacular of the 21st century. (Though she wasn’t sure how much of it was warranted considering his stories about the Commandos.) Today was all about pushing his buttons.

"Yes, it’s a helpful way of expressing oneself. And explaining the depth of ignorance of certain motherfuckers," Tony said, pretending he didn't understand Steve’s admonishment.

Steve cleared his throat and pointedly tilted his head in Darcy's direction. Tony looked to her and then back, purposefully misunderstanding. "She agrees with me. Don't you, Lewis?"

She took the cue without further prompting. "Yeah, Tony. Definitely motherfuckers," she said with a straight face.

Steve only gave her the hint of a smirk before turning back to Tony with the "America is disappointed in you" face that she had feared he would use on her.

The genius couldn't keep up the charade at that point. "Hold it. You're looking at me like I alone corrupted the youth of America for a little profane language. Lewis said the same thing. How come she's exempt?" Outrage was written on his face.

Not surprisingly, Steve did not answer. Tony continued to badger him and though Darcy really wanted to stay and see how that played out she did have work to do. Getting on the elevator, she could hear Tony still talking. "Is this because my genitals are on the outside? Cause that sexist Rogers. Even the feminists would agree that you're discriminating."

When the elevator doors were securely closed, Darcy gave in to the laughter. As far as experiments go, it hadn't been very scientific, but it had given Darcy some insight to her favorite patriotic hero. Perhaps further tests would be needed.

Tony was true to his words. Three days later Darcy came back to her apartment to find a brand new fully automated coffee bar that matched the one on the common floor. Jarvis informed her that he had taken the liberty of programming it with all her favorite brews. Which ended up being a wonderful thing because she needed the pick me up after having her confidence crushed by that same patriotic hero.


	7. Time for a Trip

Sunlight trickled in between the curtains of Steve’s window falling on his still closed eyes.

Though the apartment Stark had given him was modern, it held hints of nostalgia. Instead of electronically tinted windows, there were actual curtains. The modern kitchen appliances were cleverly hidden behind cabinet fronts. Instead of metal and chrome, the aesthetic of Stark’s spaces, there were warm lights and wood.

The space was restful. Not garish or overstated as he had imagined it might be when Stark first invited him to the tower. (He had pictured an American flag motiff.)

Still, it wasn’t until the last two weeks that his sleep had been as restful as his surroundings. It wasn’t unusual in this new century for Steve to wake after only an hour or two, nightmares making his heart pound. And that was after it took him ages to get to sleep, his brain refusing to stop.

In the last two weeks, there had been several nights where he actually slept. Curled up on the floor with his nest of blankets, the despair that ate at his soul during the night had been dimmed. The potency of his nightmares seemed diminished. Even if it only a brief reprieve, he was thankful. Though he wasn't ready to examine why it was happening in the first place.

Opening his eyes, he stared at the speckled ceiling.

The pressure from SHIELD was the heavy feel of the air before the rain. He could feel it pushing him. It was Peggy’s legacy. And he had committed to working with them. This reprieve he had found was only a stop off.

It was time for him to be moving on.

Reaching up over his head for his phone on the nightstand, he found no new messages. Yet. Fury called him on a daily basis. Leaving messages that mostly excluded the colorful language that he was accustomed to using. Even without the curse words, Steve could tell that Fury was beginning to lose his patience.

Hard to say if Fury's insistence was only because he needed help or if because he wanted Rogers where he could keep a better eye on him. The good Captain was under no illusions. SHIELD was monitoring him. They had been since day one. But Stark made it difficult for them within the Tower.

Steve was glad of that. He didn’t want Darcy being under the kind of scrutiny he was. It prickled his skin when he thought about her being watched. He knew she had a file in SHIELD's database right along with Dr. Foster due to the incident in New Mexico (and the more recent incident in London), but there was no reason for SHIELD or anyone else to be watching her now.

He told himself that his concern was only because she was linked to more than half the Avengers and could become a target from that association.

But knew that wasn’t the truth.

She was free. In the a way those around her weren’t. She could walk away. Or she could stay. Her freedom, her possibilities, were part of what defined her. He didn’t wanted to see her changed.

Finally rising from the bed, he took a long look around the room. Almost everything here had been provided by Stark. The things he would take with him would probably not even fill his duffel bag. That was all right. This had only been meant as a temporary stay.

Stark's idea of a base in the Tower was strategically sound, but the Avengers weren't really a team yet. They had worked well together during the Chitauri attack there was no doubt, but it took more than that to make a team. Steve could remember clearly how the Commandos would celebrate after each victory, commiserate after each loss. The Avengers were still fractured, though there were connections between some of them. Clint and Natasha were close, almost eerily so. Steve wondered if they were more than partners but he had more discretion than to ask. Tony and Bruce shared the gift of science making them "science bros" - according to Darcy. Thor was the most alien of them all and only seemed close with Jane and Darcy.

Darcy again. His thoughts always circled around to her. It was the proximity. That was all. Of course, he would think of her often.

It was definitely time to go.

A quick shower and change found him standing aimlessly back in his bedroom.

 _No time like the present_ , he told himself, as he began to gather his things. As predicted, everything he truly counted as his fit in the duffel he had come with.

The polite thing to do was to at least say goodbye to his teammates before he left. His gut churned at the thought of telling Darcy he was leaving, but she wasn’t a teammate. She was a neighbor. She would hear from the others that he was gone. There was no reason at all to see her. No reason for her to contact him after he left either.

So why did he feel sick at the thought of never hearing from her again? Of never seeing her smile pointed in his direction? Why did he want to give her his personal number just to see what outrageous messages she might send him?

Why did the thought of her being more than an acquaintance scare him so much? If he pushed down, under the discomfort, he could feel the fear.

People thought he was fearless. That no one except a man without fear would do the things he had done. They didn’t understand that he and fear had come to an agreement a long time ago. He could ignore the feeling usually. The only time it had ruled him was when he had almost lost…

Steve cut the thought off.

Action was better than these maudlin thoughts. He tossed his jacket over his bag and carried both out the door.

Bruce would be his first stop. The older man would no doubt be the least taxing to speak with.

Bruce had a habit of waking early and meditating on the balcony before Tony could disturb his peace. True to form, the scientist was sitting cross legged on a thin mat, the wind tugging at his hair.

Steve waited patiently until Bruce opened his eyes and looked in his direction before approaching.

“Good morning,” he greeted. “I won’t keep you. I wanted to let you know I’ll be heading to D.C. to work with SHIELD.”

An eyebrow raised, but Bruce said nothing in response.

“JARVIS has all of my contact information. And if he can’t get you through I’m sure Tony has some other way of reaching me.” Still nothing from Bruce. “You can call for anything. Doesn’t have to be world-ending destruction.” That drew a smile from the other man.

Bruce gave a nod, before reaching for his glasses which were neatly folded on the ground next to his mat. After adjusting them on his nose, he gave Steve a considering stare over his glasses. “I have a question... But you don't have to answer. If you don’t want to."

The way Bruce hesitated told Steve he probably wouldn’t like what was about to be said, but he gave a motion to continue regardless.

"Are you leaving because you want to be in D.C.? Or are you running from a certain lab assistant with dark hair and a coffee addiction?"

Steve wasn’t sure what reaction was showing on his face. Inside, he had frozen. Brain scrambling.

When the silence stretched too long, Bruce gave him a knowing smile and shook his head slightly. Pushing himself to his feet, he broke the silence. "No need to answer. I was only wondering." Rolling up his mat with efficiency, he headed for the door. On the threshold, he gave Steve a look over his shoulder. There was knowledge in that look. Something that screamed experience with running and ducking the bullets that emotions fired. "Either way, good luck to you, Captain."

With that he was gone, leaving Steve to contemplate how little he really knew about the soft-spoken scientist.

Thor was his next stop. It was painlessly done with Thor clapping him on the shoulder and wishing him well on his journey, not questioning anything he was told. Jane had been there (since Thor only seemed to relax within sight of his lady), pouring over a notebook. She had wished him luck with a distracted wave and probably forgotten what he had said before he made it out the lab door. It was hard to say if the two of them had gotten up this early or if they hadn’t even gone to bed yet.

Last was Stark. Steve was fairly certain he wasn't even going to be awake yet. Surprisingly, when he inquired about Stark's location, JARVIS directed him to the basement garage.

Relief pulsed through him at that. He could take his bike and leave directly from there. Little chance he would run into anyone else.

Even though the room gleamed with advanced tech, it smelled like every other garage or machine shop Steve had ever been in. There was grease and motor oil and gasoline. The only sound was the soft whirl of machines and JARVIS' voice as he read out stats on Steve's motorbike. Stark had it on a raised platform and was running some kind of holographic diagnostic. When he spotted Steve, he had JARVIS save the program and close it.

"What's up, Cap," he questioned. It was the same words that Stark had spoken to him weeks ago but this time the tone was subdued. Steve put it down to the man's tiredness. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes that spoke of another all-nighter.

"I'm headed back to D.C." The only was response was a noncommittal hum. "Fury's got a few missions lined for me, and I'll be training with Natasha."

"Sounds like a soldier's wet dream.” The words were Stark’s usual attitude but tone was still off. He waved his hand and the platform the bike lowered back to the floor. They watched it sink all the way down before Stark spoke again. "D.C. isn't that far of a commute if you ever need to get away. The Tower is always open."

"I appreciate it, Tony." He held out a hand.

There was a pause where Tony looked down at his hand almost in puzzlement. Then their hands clasped and the older man gave a quiet smile. “If you ever want to upgrade that bike of yours let me know. I have a few ideas that will blow your patriotic mind.”

A huff of laughter. “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

Tony drew his hand back and hurried out after that. The moment had been far too close to bonding than Steve figured Tony was comfortable with.

Strapping his bag down on the back of the bike, he thought that the conversation had been step left of normal. It was hard to say, since even living in the Tower for this short time hadn’t really brought him any closer to understanding Stark.

Shaking it off, he revved the engine and smiled at the purr. Though Tony hadn’t made an overt changes, it was obvious that he had tuned up the machine.

It was still early in the day but traffic was already thick as he exited onto the ground level. He gave the streets of New York a grim smile as he slid the bike between two yellow cabs going far faster than was safe. It should have been a four hour drive to D.C. but Steve was fairly certain he could do it in about half that time.

While he dodged cars and pushed his bike to the limit at least he would feel alive, not like he was running.

 

###

 

It was around noon when Darcy realized the Tower was down one occupant. She was thinking about making lunch and was trying to figure out what would be good based on how many portions she needed. (Thor and Steve always counted for more than one portion a piece.) "Jarvis, is Steve volunteering today?"

"No, Darcy. Captain Rogers has left the Tower."

Darcy was surprised as Steve had rarely left for anything other than his volunteer work in the last two weeks. It was good to hear he was doing something else for once. She had been considering inviting him out to an art gallery or one of the museums, but she wasn't completely sure she could make it sound like a friendly invitation and not a date so she hadn't spoken up. Steve had never mentioned anything about art but she'd caught him more than once sketching in a notebook. From the glimpses she'd had, before he closed it and shoved it away, he wasn't half bad.

"Did he say if he will be back in time for dinner," she asked the digital butler.

"I do not believe so. Captain Rogers informed me that he was going to D.C. and did not indicate any plans to return."

The kick in her gut hurt, but she shoved it down as hard and fast as she could. The only outward sign of her distress was the tight grip she had on the edge of the desk. "Good to know," she said evenly.

Jane called out to her needing assistance with something or other. Darcy only half listened as she helped. It wasn't hard. She mostly only half-listened to Jane's physics-babble anyway. When Jane no longer required her, she went to the kitchen to put together lunch.

Focusing on what was in front of her, she was able to avoid thoughts of Steve for the whole afternoon. As soon as she could though, she slipped away from the labs and back to her room. She needed to think, not react, and that was much easier when there weren't people around. Steve had left, but he hadn't said a word to her. That was easily explained. Maybe he had an urgent mission and couldn't say where he was going or why.

 _And why would he even bother saying anything_ , her inner critic said. The voice did have a valid point. They had only known each other for a few weeks, and she wasn't an Avenger or anything. He had no obligation to say anything to her.

But this was Steve. This was the man who had said she reminded him of the Howling Commandos. The one who had stood up for her against those jerks down at the construction site. The one who had been threatening a microwave when she first met him because he was too stubborn to have Jarvis work it for him. This was not the kind of man who would disappear without a word to anyone.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Darcy."

"Did Steve tell anyone other than you that he was leaving?"

"Captain Rogers did indeed. He spoke with Dr. Banner, Prince Odinson, Dr. Foster, and Sir this morning before leaving."

"Oh." So he had told someone. He had told everyone. Everyone except her.

At some point since knowing him, Darcy had begun to believe that they were headed for a friendship. Obviously not. _Deep breath, Lewis_ , she cautioned herself as she felt the tears burn in back of her eyes.

Jarvis, bless his base code, seemed to register her distress. "Would you like something to drink, Darcy? Your new coffee bar is ready. I have even taken the liberty of programing some of your favorites along with a soothing camomile tea that I can prepare for you now."

She smiled up at the corner where she knew the camera was located. It may have been a little watery around the edges but it was still a smile. "You're the best, Jarvis. But I need something a little stronger than camomile if you don't mind."

"Of course, Darcy."

Trust Stark to have a coffee machine that could also do Hot Toddies.

With steaming cup in hand, Darcy curled up in the corner of her ratty couch and pulled a throw over her legs. It was comforting. She needed that comfort. Rationally, she knew that Steve hadn't abandoned her. He hadn’t even really been in her life long enough to “abandon” her.

But the rest of her wasn't so rational. She had been left behind again. What was it about her that made it so easy to throw her away? First her parents, her aunt, her past loves, even Ian who had saved her life in London. They all eventually walked away like it was nothing. And maybe it was. Maybe she just wasn't worth the effort of staying for.

She had very few close friends though from the look of her social media pages you would never guess. Jane was the best friend that she'd had in years. And family....well that was not a good direction for thoughts to be going if she was trying to make herself feel better.

The confident and sarcastic shell she wore had cracked and her weak vulnerable self was peeking out. By the morning, she would be back to normal. Everything tucked back into place. For now she would breathe in the steam of her tea and try to remind herself that no one's opinion mattered to her, even if she knew that she was lying.


	8. While You Were Away

D.C. was a decent city. The atmosphere was different than New York, but people were people no matter where Steve found himself.

His apartment was bland. His space in the Tower had suited him much better though he wasn’t able to articulate quite why. He tried to make what SHIELD had given him his own. Books began to fill the shelves. A record player, a gift from Natasha, took up a corner.

Still he tried not to spend much time there. Especially during those first few weeks when idle moments made his thoughts turn to how those at the Tower were faring.

Thankfully, SHIELD kept him busy. There was always a mission. When there wasn't, the research teams wanted to run tests, the tactical strike teams wanted to train with him, and the head doctors wanted to 'evaluate' him. He spent a lot of time avoiding the last group.

When the nights closed in, and there was nothing to distract him, sometimes his thoughts would wander. Far and wide they would wander. Back to blue eyes and the smell of cigarettes. To a mean right hook and sensible heels. To red lips and black-framed glasses.

Steve had never believed himself to have a “type” before. He liked what he liked. Simple as that. But sitting in an empty apartment, he couldn’t help but draw comparisons. 

Bucky had been his in a way no other could be. Knew him in a way no other ever could.  Unacknowledged as anything more than friendship, they both had known that their connection could never be anything more. Steve had seen it in Bucky’s eyes when he brought up another double date. The pleading to “ _ go along with this, punk, for me” _ . He knew Bucky had been trying to do the best he could for both of them. Even if every subtle rejection of their own possibilities cut deep.

Peggy had been different but still so similar. It was why Bucky had never really gotten on with her well. She was steel and fire beneath a crisp English accent. She had looked at Steve, not through him, even before the serum. With Peggy there had been a real possibility. He could have been happy with her. He could have settled down, raised children. He could have done all the things he would never be able to do with Bucky.

But Steve knew himself to be a selfish man. 

The rest of the world might see him as the ultimate hero, giving everything for his country. And he had been happy to do so. Though that wasn’t why he had made the choice. 

When Bucky had been lost, taken beyond the veil, to a place Steve could not reach. His heart had torn and gone cold. It sat like a lump in his chest while he strategized with the Commandos and the SSR. It was a heavy weight behind his breastbone while Peggy wished him luck.

All thoughts of a future had vanished with Bucky.

It was almost a relief when he found the controls of the Valkyrie disabled, entire navigational system smashed. 

He would never tell a soul that though. Let them believe the stories they had grown up on.

Now he was here, in this new century where he never imagined he would be. All thoughts of romance and relationships should be long dead.    
Then a certain brunette had waltzed right in.

There was the rub. Two genders, two centuries, three names… and they all had a hold on him he couldn’t explain. Dark hair, expressive eyes, full lips, sarcasm and attitude in spades, and more rhythm than he would ever have. He could be describing any one of them.

Still Darcy was the odd one out. She was young. (Granted she was only a couple years younger than himself if you didn't count the years he was frozen.) She was innocent. She had never seen war. (The attacks she had survived didn’t count.) She couldn't possibly share anything in common with a fossil like him.

Yet something about her vivacious attitude drew him. Sometimes when she smiled he forgot all the good reasons to stay away. He forgot the way he usually stumbled through talking to women because she made it so easy. 

She was a bright shaft of sunlight like Bucky had been before the war. She didn't need to touch his shadowed world. Association with him had never done Bucky any good.

He wasn’t sure exactly why he woke up one day and decided it was time to visit the Smithsonian, time to see how the world remembered his old friends. He had known the exhibit was there. Natasha, in her endless campaign to drag him into more social activities, had informed him of its existence.  Somewhere in between trying to set him up with the barista at the corner coffee shop and forcing him to watch  _ Glee _ .

Looking at the wall in honor of his best friend Steve felt his heart stutter. There had been so many missed opportunities with Bucky. Things they had never given voice too. Things they ignored and buried beneath their easy banter. Bucky had been his rock. He had been there when Steve's own body betrayed him with sickness. Bucky had been the one to drag him home after every scrap he'd had with bigger and stronger men. After the serum, Steve had finally thought that he could be the rock Bucky needed in return. There had been no hesitation in the brunette's eyes when they had sat in that bar talking about diving back into the war zone he had escaped. Steve could still clearly remember asking, "Are you ready to follow 'Captain America' into the jaws of death?"

The serious look on Bucky’s face had almost made Steve believe him when Bucky replied "Hell, no." But his eyes never lied. His eyes smiled. "That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight, I'm following him."

The words echoed in Steve memory. God, he missed Bucky.

 

###

 

The Tower seemed a little quieter these days. Steve had been in D.C. for a few months. Tony had started to spend more and more time in Malibu. Thor was often off-world attending to whatever it was that galactic princes needed to attend to.

For Bruce, there were two things that kept his days from being boringly calm. One was his lab assistant.

He was fairly certain that Tony had purposely given him the most irritating lab assistant in the history of hard sciences. Not that he wasn’t extremely appreciative of everything that Tony had done for him. Giving him lab space, an apartment, access to funds, free reign to pursue whatever research he wanted. All those things made Bruce feel indebted to the eccentric billionaire.

But….

Bruce had never actually _asked_ for an assistant. His years running all across the globe made him more comfortable by himself. For anything he absolutely needed help with he could ask Tony or Jane or one of the other scientists in the many levels of the Tower.

It might have been fine. Bruce might have even learned to enjoy having a little gopher to run errands for him, grab his coffee, correlate his data, etc. However, the young man was impossible.  He was arrogant (without Tony’s accomplishments to back it up), misogynistic, and vain. He was brilliant, but only in the theoretical sense as he lacked practical experience. He was also what some might call ‘pretty’ though Bruce himself couldn’t see the appeal. He was like one of those overly artificial looking male models that stood outside boutiques to attract equally artificial customers.  

Bruce was fairly certain that the young man had been hired sight unseen based on his academic record alone. There was no way he would have made it past Tony, let alone the indomitable Pepper Potts.

While Mitchell droned on about something or other (he had quite listening about 30 minutes ago), Bruce had been reviewing his findings. It wasn’t like when Tony was prattling on in the background. Tony was witty and had a unique way of looking at the world. It was entertaining as much as it was distracting. Mitchell’s chatter was inane.  

Absently, Bruce reached for his cup and brought it to his lips only to find it was empty. Internally he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. If he wanted more he could ask Mitchell for it, but that seemed like more trouble than it was worth. The alternative was making it himself but he really didn’t want to walk away from these numbers right now. He was close to making some connection and he didn’t want to lose it.  

A little while later, he heard Mitchell saying something about leaving for lunch. Bruce gave him an absent wave and a mental good riddance. A few moments after that, Bruce heard the doors open again. He didn’t even bother looking up assuming it was Mitchell returning.

Which was why he startled when a fresh cup of steaming tea appeared just at the edge of the papers he was looking at. His head snapped up and his gaze meeting Darcy’s laughing eyes.

“Hello, Doc.  How’s it hanging?”

There was the other reason his days escaped boredom.

Bruce wasn’t sure if Darcy had been hired on to assist all of them or if she had just assumed more responsibilities and no one had stopped her. She could often be found sticking her nose into the other labs. By this point he was certain she could pick out each scientist by name, project (even if it was classified), and favorite way they took their coffee.

In his head, she was like a babbling brook. She made a melody all her own and people got distracted by the way sunlight played over her surface. In fact, they were so busy looking at the surface that they missed the way her waters wore down all resistance and carved new paths. 

He realized he had been staring a few moments too long. “Um..fine.”

Her smile increased slightly at his wary tone. “Relax. I’m not here to shanghai you for Tony or anything.” (He hadn’t even known Tony was back.) “I figured you could use a refresh on your Intensi-Tea.” She looked at him expectantly. “Aww come on  It took me the whole walk here to think that up. Intensi-Tea, intensity.” She waved a hand. “Never mind. This one is supposed to help with ‘mental acuity and focus’,” she quoted. “Said so on the box. Don’t get too excited though I’m bringing you the one called Sweet Dreams when it gets to be after hours.”

Bruce finally found his voice. “You don’t have to do that you know. I have an assistant.”

Darcy scoffed. “What you have is a talking billboard for doucheness. Plus I don’t mind. I feed Jane and Tony around now usually, it’s not hard to add a little for you.” She turned and grabbed a tray he hadn’t even noticed off the counter behind her. “Its pretty basic today. Grilled cheese with tomato and green onion. Aaand a little soup,” she said as she placed a plate in front of him.

He noted the other plate on the tray had the same setup, except the sandwich was missing the crusts. Raising a brow in question, he looked at her.

She simply shrugged. “We all know Tony is actually a five year old trapped in a man’s body.”

Bruce laughed at that.

He was still laughing when the door opened and Mitchell strode in. Darcy glanced at him over her shoulder then back to Bruce with an eye-roll. “Speaking of children,” she muttered under her breath.

“I didn’t like anything downstairs,” Mitchell announced as if someone had cared enough asked. “Oh, did you order lunch?” He completely ignored Darcy as he came around to stand between them. “That looks pretty good. I’d like one of those too, babe. Or is this for me,” he asked reaching for the plate.

Bruce was watching the exchange with growing anger. It was one thing to act like an arrogant prick when it was only the two of them in the lab, but Darcy didn’t deserve any of that. Before he could say a word, Darcy took the bull by the horns.

She jerked the tray back out of his reach, a small splash of tomato soup falling onto the tray due to the quick movement. “I’m so sorry Michelle, that’s not for you,” she said with falsely sweet voice.

Mitchell’s gazed jerked to her face for the first time. “It’s Mitchell,” he said with a hint of annoyance.

“Really?” Her eyes raked down him and back up consideringly. “Oh. My mistake. I swore you were a Michelle.”

Eyes narrowed, Mitchell tried to get control back. “How long will it be for you to get my order?”

Maybe Mitchell wasn’t observant enough to see the fire flare up in Darcy’s eyes, but Bruce was.  For a moment, the older man considered stepping in. However, the quick look she shot him out of the corner of her eye and the suppressed smirk told him that she probably wouldn’t appreciate it.  

“Well Michelle….I mean Mitchell. It will probably be awhile as you’ll have to wait for hell to freeze over. Which I’m told will be impossible since its exothermic. Unfortunate for you, but what are you gonna do,” she said with a blasé shrug.  

Mitchell had been gaping at her since the second sentence. Bruce almost felt bad at the way his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. He sputtered as anger took over.  “Listen here you little-”

“Oh please finish that sentence, you asshat,” Darcy said calmly as she set down the tray. “Please. It would make my day.”

Confusion warred with anger across his features. “What are you talking about?”

“Insult me,” she taunted. “Come on. I dare you. You don’t even have to do it loudly. Jarvis will catch it. Won’t you, buddy.”

JARVIS sounded proper as ever as he responded with “It would be my pleasure, Darcy”. However, Bruce thought he could also detect a hint of protective anger threaded in the artificial tones.

“You,” Darcy poked Mitchell’s chest, “are a disgrace. You get to work with a genius, but you have your head too far up your own ass to even appreciate it. Not to mention the way you treat women.” There was a red flush of fury across her chest (not that Bruce was looking there specifically) as she pushed into the assistant's space. “And don’t think I haven’t heard from Jane about your attitude with her. You’re just lucky I didn’t tell Thor. Mew-mew would make you flatter than a pancake. You need to go back to school and learn some manners, you little douche-canoe.”     

Fists clenched Mitchell looked down his nose at Darcy and for one sickening moment Bruce thought he was going to try to take a swing at the shorter woman. “Don’t,” Bruce rumbled, feeling the Other Guy pushing at his mental barriers and deepening his voice.

Mitchell paled, his eyes widening in the sudden realization that Bruce really was dangerous.

The moment might had escalated to violence, but thankfully Jarvis broke it. “Sir has asked that you be reminded you are allowed to terminate your assistant’s employment anytime you wish, Dr. Banner.”

Taking a deep breath, he reeled the monster back. “You should go,” he told Mitchell, his voice returning to normal. “And please do not come back.”

Mitchell hurried to grab his things and rushed out the door.  

“I have informed security, Dr. Banner. They will make sure he makes it out of the building and all his access is revoked,” Jarvis said.

“Thanks, buddy,” Darcy said a smile back on her face.

For a moment they stood across from each other in silence. They had been living together for a few months now, but he had never shown his true colors like that before. At least not to her. He thought she would be as scared by that little display as Mitchell had been. Yet, she looked calm as ever, her smile not a watt dimmer.

“So...hell is exothermic?”

She threw back her head in a deep laugh. “Yes it is. That’s about the only thing I remember from chemistry class. Our professor showed us this paper some kid had written about it as an extra credit or something. I don’t remember the whole thing by I do remember the bit about hell being exothermic as it’s expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter. So the temperature and pressure in hell will increase until all hell breaks loose.”

Bruce found himself chuckling.

“I’ll have to find you the whole thing. It's a good one.” She casually picked up the tray she had abandoned and motioned to his plate with her other hand. “Eat up, Doc.  I’ll be back with a tea refill later.”

With that she strode out as confidently as she had entered. She was beautiful and a little terrifying. He could see why Steve had shown his such interest in her. In a different world, Bruce might have been interested himself. But he was too old, too awkward, and far too unstable to be good for anyone.

Sighing, he picked up his tea and took a long sip as his mind returned to the data in front of him.

 

###

 

Air was important. His burning lungs were screaming that fact.

However, Steve was too stubborn to tap out. 

Natasha was not going to win. Not today. Not this round. 

She was reclining almost lazily while her thighs attempted to strangle him and a arm bar locked his upper body in place. The smirk on her face only enforced the idea that this was easy for her.

Training with her was always a surprise. She seemed to have an endless bag of tricks and just when he thought he had a good strategy against her she would pull out something new. 

She had been his unofficial partner and liaison to the rest of SHIELD since he had come to D.C. six months ago.

With a choked grunt, Steve gave in, slapping his hand against the mats. She disengaged smoothly and rolled to her feet, offering a hand down to him. He took the offer.

“You know,” Natasha began as Steve took a long pull from his water bottle, “I think Cheryl at the front desk wouldn’t mind taking you that movie you wanted to see.”

Not bothering to respond, Steve grabbed the tape from his bag and began to do up his hands. It was already midnight, but his schedule was a little off from the last two missions. Plus he didn’t need that much sleep anyway.

Natasha gave an exaggerated sigh, but Steve knew it was all for show. 

She was probably the person he was closest with...as much as one could get close to the Black Widow.

She had taken it upon herself to expand his horizons and drag him into the 21st century. What she really wanted to do was play matchmaker. He ignored that for the most part and brushed off her suggestions with deflecting banter, or completely ignored them.

“I’ll see you later, Steve,” she called as she passed through the door to the showers. 

“Goodbye Natasha.”

The thunk of his fist against bag was satisfying. It wasn’t quite enough, but it helped. 

He often found himself running or lifting weights. Anything that made his muscles burn. Exercise had become a haven for him. During the war, it hadn't really been a need. Now he found it was a good way to keep the demons away, to wear himself out enough to sleep. It also helped to sharpen his skills. He was deadlier than he had even been before. Sometimes he questioned whether that was a good development.

Three hours later, he took a look around the empty gym and decided it was time to pack it in.

As soon as he stepped inside his apartment and closed the door, he knew he couldn’t stay. The memories were close tonight. Too close.

He tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, pulled on his sweats, and left again.

Out of all the ways he pushed himself, he enjoyed running the best. In the early morning hours, when there was fog still trailing through the streets, he could lose himself in the rhythm. He could forget about the things he had lost and the things he had never had.

The city was beautiful like this. A picture or a painting, undisturbed by reality. 

He passed the early-risers, smelled the fresh doughnuts and coffee being made. He ran all the way to the National Mall and still the urgency under his skin hadn’t abated. He decided to do the circuit here instead of going the length and breadth of the city. 

 

The first time Steve had passed the other runner in the weak light of the rising sun, he had called out a quick "on your left" as a warning. When he lapped the man, calling another warning, he had heard the annoyance in his voice when he responded "Uh-huh. On my left. Got it." As he approached for the third time, the black man had increased speed and warningly called "Don't say it. Don't you say it." 

Steve couldn't resist the urge to tweak the other man's tail after that.

When he had finally wound down, he spotted the other runner leaning up against the base of a tree. Introductions were made, and Sam Wilson gave back as good as he got. He even gave Steve a suggestion for his list of things to try. Most surprising, Sam also seemed to understand some of the shadows Steve had been running from. When he mentioned the VA, Steve never pictured himself going, but the offer stayed in the back of his mind.

Even as Natasha drove him toward their next mission.

 

###

 

Darcy was still awake as the clock approached 2am.

Her focus was intense as she looked over the cards in her hand. The pot in the middle was overflowing with fun size candy bars. 

The security team that filled in the other chairs at the table were all as committed to the game as she was. Arnie wasn’t among them, but he had kids and didn’t usually work the late shift. 

The ones who were here - Dick (whose real name was Richard), Irish (Pat Sullivan), Seven (Frank), and Flood (Noah) - were some of her favorites though. 

For the last three weeks, Darcy had been hanging out with the security people a lot. 

The Avengers levels were empty. Bruce had left on some kind of extended retreat. Jane and Thor were exploring one of the realm, something that started with a Y. Tony was back in Malibu. Steve was still in D.C. (Not that she cared.) 

After the first few days of being on her own, Darcy had gotten bored with tormenting the other minions. Thus she had found herself down here. 

Finally deciding on her move, Darcy tossed down a Snickers. “I’ll see your bet.” A Twix followed. “And I’ll raise.”

Seven made an “ooo” sound that was only a little patronizing. He had folded already.

Dick gave her a considering look before adding his own candy to call. 

“Let’s see ‘em,” Irish instructed. 

Flood laid out a pair of threes and tens. Dick followed with three Jacks. 

Darcy grinned. “Oh boys. Never bet against the Queen.” She spread her cards down, showing four Queens.

There were good-natured groans as Darcy raked in her winnings. 

 

###

 

After the Lemurian Star, Steve felt himself floundering. This time, instead of another run or another broken punching bag, he sought out Sam at the VA. 

Watching Sam lead the group counseling session made Rogers think perhaps he had been too quick to brush off the idea of therapy. He still wasn't ready to walk into that room though. He could appreciate why it might help, but his own situation was so much more convoluted than only what the war had done to him. He had lost everything. And while the world was no longer mourning the soldiers that had been lost on the fields of Europe to Hydra and Hitler, he still was. For him it had been months not decades.

Maybe he needed to see that it hadn't all been for nothing. 

When Fury had shown him the Helicarriers and proclaimed that they were to protect freedom, Steve had burned disappointment and anger. For that moment, listening to Fury had been like listening to Schmidt, the Red Skull, talk about how superior men were meant to rule over the weak. Did no one remember what it had been like back then? Did no one recognize that the propaganda being spouted now sounded eerily like Hydra's own from so long ago?

He needed someone to remember. 

Naively, he thought another visit to the Smithsonian exhibit might ease some of his desperation. Here they remembered. They honored the men who had fought beside him. The men who had given everything, like Bucky.

Not much had changed since he had been last. Bucky’s wall still drew him, like a compass to the north. When he was certain that his heart couldn’t take anymore, he followed the flow of people toward the exit.

He was planning to leave, to go home. Maybe grab a bite to eat on the way, even though his stomach was churning with emotion his body required a certain amount of calories.

The voice from the past froze him in his tracks.

Peggy. 

Through a curtained doorway, into a shadowed room, his feet took him closer. In the looping video, she spoke about him with affection and regret. It had been recorded years ago, but she looked full of life. 

He knew she was still alive, unlike everyone else from his past. Yet he hadn’t been able to visit her yet. Not after seeing the picture of how she looked now. Not after hearing that she there was a good chance she wouldn’t remember him. That she might not recognize him.

It would be like ripping the bandages off a half-healed wound, making it bleed all over again.   
He knew where Peggy was. It had been in one of the files they had given him him months ago, but he had never reached out. 

He was afraid. He could admit that. Afraid that if she did remember him she would turn him away for abandoning her. The woman he knew would be ashamed of him for that.

Spurred by the video, he went to the private facility where she resided.

In the end, his fears were groundless. She welcomed him with tears and a smile. For an hour or so they spoke of the old days, the things she had done with her life, the way the others had dealt without him. Then Peggy, his dear Peggy with her white hair and wrinkled hands, had given him a gift. "The world is changed and none of us can go back," she said. "All we can do is our best. And sometimes the best we can do is to start over."

When a coughing fit had started, he had hurried to get her a glass of water, but in those brief seconds he lost her all over again. The nurses had warned him. Her mind was like a kaleidoscope, always shifting. Sometimes it was would align perfectly and she would be in the now and cognizant. Sometimes it would align back to 1945 when the war still raged. Other times she would be waiting for her children and husband to come home. 

Another knife to his heart. He could see her, touch her hand, but that sharp mind he had so admired had been dulled by time.

Steve left soon after. He couldn't go through it with her all again. He couldn't watch her struggle to understand how it was he still lived.

For all the pain the visit had give him, there was a small spark of hope. Peggy had always been able to see to the heart of the matter. To cut through his dramatics with her no-nonsense practicality.  

He would never forget the past, but maybe he could try to stop wishing he was still there. Maybe he would go on one of the dates Natasha suggested. When the vision of Darcy sitting across from him at a candlelight restaurant rose in his mind, he squashed it. Not that. But maybe his neighbor would be a good place to start. 

As he made his way through the hall to his door, he bumped right into the blonde nurse who had been his neighbor since he had moved to D.C.  _ Now or never. _

Sharon ultimately told him no, but it had been gently done and he appreciated it. It gave him confidence to try again with someone else. That little spark of hope was growing brighter.

Unfortunately, that’s when it all went to shit.

Fury hiding in his apartment. Saying SHIELD couldn't be trusted. No one could be trusted. Window shattering from the force of a bullet before Steve could get an explanation. Fury’s blood on his walls.

Watching helplessly as SHIELD's fearsome director flatlined, Steve gave a brief thought to calling the Tower but he tossed it aside. If he called the Tower, everyone there would be in danger. Thor would probably be able to handle himself. Banner too. Tony would be vulnerable unless he was suited up and he couldn't spend every second encased in metal. The innocents there would have no protection. Darcy among them.

No. He would deal with this with help from those who were already involved, and hope it was enough.

Facing the Winter Soldier across a battle torn street, he knew it wasn't going to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The exothermic thing is really a good read. Check it out [here](http://www.pinetree.net/humor/thermodynamics.html)


	9. Darcy Keeps Watch

There were seven holographic monitors displaying various news feeds on the lab wall. Darcy was watching them all as she paced between the chairs of the small lounge area in Jane’s lab. Over and over she watched the clip of Captain America being arrested. He looked beaten down, something she had never thought to see, as he knelt on the street automatic weapons pointed at his head. This wasn't the fatigued and battle worn Captain America the world had seen during the incursion in New York. This was a bewildered and humbled Steve.

The first time the clip played, she had held her breath in anticipation believing he would fight free of the men surrounding him. She knew he was strong enough, fast enough. But he didn't fight. He let them load him into the back of a black SUV without protest. It was wrong. Very wrong. When the vehicle had later been identified as belonging to SHIELD, her unease only grew. They were supposed to be his allies. Why were they doing this?

Every so often she would pick up her taser from the end table in agitation and then set it back down. She needed to do something. She needed to help.

Realistically, there was nothing she could do. She knew that. But still she practically vibrated with impotent energy.

Her stomach was in knots as she contemplated the phone in her hand. She had tried contacting Tony, who was in Malibu, but there had been no response as of yet. Jarvis was being surprisingly quiet about Tony’s whereabouts too which was not reassuring in the least. Bruce was still sequestered on his meditation retreat without any means of contact. Thor, her go-to guy, was still off impressing Jane with the wonders of the nine realms. Darcy wasn't even sure which one. Not that it mattered, none of them had cell service.

She wasn't even sure how long she had been down here. It seemed like days. Jarvis could probably tell her but she didn't ask. When she had gotten wind of what was happening via the ever helpful Facebook, she had retreated to the lab where she knew she could have all the news stations displayed at once. 

Arnie had called her at some point. Letting her know that the upper levels were all under Level 8 security protocols. She didn’t really know what all that entailed but considering that the outer windows had all been covered with some kind of reinforced shielding the moment her and Jarvis had heard about the incident in D.C. she could make some assumptions.

She had told him that she was fine and since then there had been radio silence.

There was no sunlight. No clocks. It was like being in Vegas. The world could pass you by while you shot for a dream at the tables. This wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare.

True, Steve had left without a word to her, but she still cared about him. Like she cared about all the Avengers. There was nothing more to it than that, she told herself.

Now he was in trouble. The kind she was ill equipped to deal with.

"There appears to be a new development," Jarvis announced. Her eyes snapped to the screens. They lit up with destruction. It was a war zone. The carnage after a bomb goes off. Wreckage was scattered across the river next to a barely standing building the reporters identified as SHIELD headquarters.

"Oh my god," she whispered in horror.

She sank into the chair behind her without even blinking. She watched raptly, terrified that any second they would announce that Captain America's corpse had been found. The news casters droned on with unconfirmed reports of what had happened. No one knew, not really. The vast amount of information that had suddenly appeared on the net about the shadowy operations of SHIELD only complicated matters. It was chaos.

Then finally the news came. Captain America had been located. Steve was alive.

Darcy felt her lungs fill with a deep breath of relief.


End file.
